ghost ★ [b. barnes/winter soldier]

★ THREE - три ★

three - over a cup of coffee
три - за чашкой кофе

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THE MAN WAS FROZEN in his bed from pure pain and shock the was controlling his body. His long, dark brown hair was stuck together in clumps from ice, his eyes closed, and his body seemed to be almost dead limp.

I could immediately tell the man was dying. I've watched so many people die that it had become a norm, I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

He was more wheezing then breathing, which gave me a limited amount of time to work.

I moved to the side of him, picking up his right hand and inspecting it.

His veins were popping out and showing a light, pale red. He wasn't getting enough oxygen was the first priority. His skin was whiter than the snow falling outside at the moment, and cuts littered everywhere.

"We need oxygen to get into his blood," I barked out as I looked at Sam. He nodded in understanding as he limped out of the room.

I checked his pulse when Sam disappeared. It was small, but there. Pulse, pulse. Pulse. Pulse...

"Sam!" I screamed as I saw him wobbling in with an oxygen tank that had two tubes connected to it.

With my fast reflexes, I managed to hook the oxygen into his nose before making Sam open the mystery man's mouth. I gently took the second tube and slowly started to put it down his throat. When I felt like I gently hit something, I stopped and told Sam to turn on the air. The swooshing sound of the oxygen came through the tubes as I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

Why would I have an oxygen tank? Let's just say I've dealt with these problems many times before - aka Sam, Steve, Clint, Pietro, and etc.

I checked his pulse as I sighed in relief, it was there.

"Steve," I heard him come in with the aroma of eggs and bacon. "Can you get me the blankets from the closet?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I ate a piece of bacon as I continued to work on the body of the almost lifeless soul. I wrapped his hands where deep gashes lay and some minor scraps that had begun to heal over. I gently sewed a cut on his bicep before wrapping the long strips of bandage around his arm.

After I finished his arm, I began removing some of the sheets to reveal a pool of blood on the side of his rib cage. I peeled off the blankets and pulled away from the thin cotton shirt he was wearing as I saw the large, "x" like gash on his waist.

I gently grabbed some alcohol sheets before wiping off the stale blood around the cut. When I moved to the wound, the man's breathing hitched and his eyes fluttered the tiniest bit.

I felt bad for him, he seemed to be already going through hell from his faded features and the bags under his closed eyes.

I gently wiped off the wound as I heard him groan lowly, his mouth twitching. I rolled my eyes as Steve and Sam watched me from behind, they reminded me of children watching a teacher at a school.

I took one of the pieces of cut skin before sticking a small needle with string into the flap and sewing it to the other flap. I smiled as the wound started to seal up from my pristine work. I moved my hands gently across his toned chest before I caught a glimpse of some scars. They reminded me of my battle scars. I furrowed my brow, about to ask but knew it wasn't a good question to ask.

I finished up since Steve said that's all I needed to do - even though I only fixed most of the right side of his body.

"What about his left side? His leg, arm maybe?" I asked as I started to put my tools in a cup of alcohol so it would sanitize them. I peeled off my bloody gloves then through them into a trashcan.