{marvel}
{thank you - James Buchanan Barnes X reader}
You walked causally down the long lane of broken street lamps and trash bags filled with suspicious contents. The smell of death and trash would have been overbearing to anyone else, but you had been here so many times, it was like there was no smell. This dark and creepy alleyway was your only place to collect your thoughts.
Obviously, this would make a great place for murderers to dump their bodies, or kidnappers to capture this prey. Which is why people never came here. Which is why you stayed here.
But today, something was off. You felt an eerie presence, and a new smell added to the trash and rotting flesh smell of Rosen Ave.'s Alleys. It was a rose like smell- but vulgar. You didn't know how to explain it. It smelt horrible, as if it was a cheap, unfulfilling knockoff and ripoff of a famous movie, the plague of its kind. In this case, the movie happened to be the Rose. In the back of your mind, a red flag was going off. But you ignored it.
Why did you ignore it?
You pulled your jacket just a little bit tighter around your waist, and quickened your pace just a little bit more.
Suddenly you felt a presence behind your back. You didn't want to alert whoever it was, so you just started to speed walk. You heard breaths coming closer, so you broke into a run.
Gunshots. Pain. Left leg. Ouch. Gunshot. Torso. Pain. Help. It took a moment for your brain to realize what was happening, before seeing the concerned face of a man. You remember darkness- but the feeling of being lifted up, and the gentle sway of being held, bridal style, and being carried towards a place.
Then you were plunged back into reality. White. White. White. White. Again, your brain was slowly regaining its full posture. Lines became shadows, which outlined shapes, which created a room. A hospital room. You sighed and suddenly looked to you right. A man... So out of place. A black hoodie, gaining that Raven affect, so you couldn't see his face. Ripped jeans, and gloves on only the right hand.
Your brain was still spinning, so not everything was clear- but suddenly a voice brought sudden precision and clarity.
"You're up?" Spoke a gruff voice, source of which being the suspicious figure in the chair beside you.
"MMM" was all you could get out. Your body numbed with meds, you could barely nod your head.
"What..." You started, already forgotten what you were going to ask. Your face creased and eyes squinted in concentration.
"What happened to you?" The man spoke softly. You tried to nod. He laughed a deep laugh. With his ungloved hand, he imitates a gun.
"You were shot. Left leg and midsection." He says gruffly. Then goes back to his default position. One knee over the other, hands crossed.
"Who - ah- uuuuuu" you managed to say. He nodded and pulled down his hood to reveal a man with piercing grey eyes, a sharp jawline, and really nice hair (DAMN GIMME YO GODDAMN SHAMPOO).
"James Barnes" he speaks softly, as if speaking too loudly would damage some part of you. He had a set face, but beneath that cold exterior, there was a thousand feelings of pain, betrayal, and happy memories. Your eyes closed, and you fell asleep, thinking about your savior. In you dreams, the events happened again, leaving you to believe that this man was watching the whole thing.
You felt feeling come back to only your right leg and body, and the awareness your brain usually had was restored. Your left leg was absent, and you couldn't explain why. But with this- searing pain ran up your stomach. You heard muttering and whispers so you turned your head to see a doctor clad in white and blue.
"She's ok, I cut her off the morphine. Tell me, what exactly happened?" You heard grumbling, and a familiar voice ring out.
"Was walking... gunshots... on the floor... Blood... carried her... here she is" was all you could catch. They started to talk about something about prosthetics.
"Excuse me? When can I get back home? I have 2 dogs and a cat to feed." You said, cutting off the serious concerned rambles of the two men.
Their heads turned to look at you.
"What?" The doctor said. James nodded.
"I know I've been shot and all- can't you like gimme a cast of whatever so I can go home?" James chuckled softly and the doctor laughed.
"Honey- im afraid you can't do that." You looked at him strangely.
"Your leg was extremely infected when this kind Samitarian found you. We had to" he took a breath "amputate it off". You realized that that was why you couldn't feel your legs. You lifted up the blanket to see, indeed, you had no left leg. Tears streamed down your face.
"Prosthetic?" You asked, whimpering.
"We were just discussing that. They are extremely expensive- especially now, but yet again, this man comes to your rescue. He's offered to pay for it, seeing your financial situation." James blushed furiously, and you looked down to avoid eye contact.
"Thanks." You muttered. He smiled slightly.
