BE THE CHANGE // BUCKY BARNES X OC

EIGHT

Eeekk part 8! I am to invested in this to slow down. Enjoy and please leave a comment or vote if your loving reading this as much I'm loving writing it.

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"Morning." Bucky said softly as I made my way into the lounge room, dropping to the couch. "Morning. How are you feeling?" I sang back to him. The last week had flown by since moving into his house. While I was still adjusting to the fact that he expected nothing in return for me staying, he'd gone on a small recon mission with Sam and had only returned last night, well past midnight.

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He had tried to be quiet but I'd woken anyway and found him, bloodied and bruised in the kitchen trying to clean his wounds. "Jesus's Bucky...what the hell happened out there?" I asked him seriously as I grabbed his chin, turning his face gently so I could assess the damage. I grabbed some gauze and started with the cut above his right brow.

"It's not deep, so I won't need to stitch it up." I said softly, dabbing the blood away as he watched me with exhausted eyes. He let me clean the rest of the blood off his face and put steristrips over the cut above his brow and the one on his cheek. "Your lip will have to heal on its own." I said quietly as I stepped back.

He winced as he shrugged his leather jacket off, dropping it to the floor before he lifted his shirt up and exposed the damage there. "Fucking hell! What were you, the bloody pinata?!" I growled softly. "Upstairs. Shower. Now." I commanded bluntly, pointing to the stairs. He groaned slightly as he limped his way into the bathroom.

I got the water going for him then noticed he couldn't even bend to remove his boots. "Lean against the sink." I sighed as I knelt down, unlacing his boots and slid them off along with his socks. He grunted, I think it was in appreciation, as I stood up and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it carefully over his head.

I turned back to the shower and got it to a reasonable temperature before I moved to the door, keeping my back to him, listening to him climb in and groan loudly as the water hit his body. "Is anything broken? Is Sam ok?" I asked hesitantly, worry creeping in at the thought of Sam being hurt. "Don't think so." He grumbled quietly. "Sam's fine."

The breath I'd been holding was released and I moved carefully, picking up his clothes and boots. "I'll be back...don't hurt yourself further ok." I said seriously before I went to the laundry room and chucked his clothes in the machine.

I grabbed him a pair of boxers and a shirt and put them on his bed before I went back to check on him. "You ok?" I asked quietly as I entered the bathroom and heard the water turn off. His hand appeared, reaching for his towel and I handed it to him, turning my back again. I heard shuffling and grunting behind me before he spoke. "I'm covered."

Turning slowly, my gaze fell to his torso and my face dropped. "It looks worse!" I exclaimed as I moved closer, my fingers brushing his skin and he winced again. "Come on, bed." I ushered him to his room, and he pulled his boxers on, under the towel before he let it fall then carefully climbed onto his bed. I grabbed the spare blanket from his cupboard and draped it over him, tucking him in.

He smiled weakly, looking up at me. "Thank you." He mumbled, his eyes closing as I gently stroked his hair. I sat there, watching him closely as he slipped into a deep sleep and remained there an hour more, listening to his breathing, listening for any wet noises or wheezing and when none came I got up carefully, kissing his forehead softly. "You bloody idiot. I told you to be careful." I whispered as I got up, checking his breathing one more time before I went back to my own bed.