Hidden Love ~ Stucky

9

The stark smell of bleach and the sound of beeping awoke Bucky from his drug induced slumber and he scrunched his eyes at the bright light that had began slipping through his closed eyelids.

He felt something cold and plastic like covering his mouth, and so reaching his shaking right hand up, he patted the plastic and realised it was an oxygen mask.

Tony, who was tiredly seated next to the hospital bed, head lolling to the side at not having any sleep the night before, snapped his eyes open at the shuffling being made before him.

"Hey, welcome back soldier." He cooed hoarsely from crying and lack of sleep, reaching up and gently pulling the mask up and off of Bucky's face.

Bucky groaned lazily, reaching his right hand over to his left side to grab at his arm, only to be met with sheets and a blanket. Maybe his arm was just numb and he couldn't feel it laying on his chest? Yeah. That must be it.

The heart rate monitors beeping grew faster in pace as he slowly, eyes still closed, reached his hand up to his shoulder, only to feel a little nub of skin.

Bucky shot his eyes open in fear, staring down at where his left arm used to be and saw that it was nowhere in sight. The only skin being the nub he had felt before.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he looked over at Tony who was trying not to cry. "D-Dad." He croaked, panic bubbling in the pit of his stomach. "W-What happened? W-what did t-they do t-to me?"

"I'm so sorry Buck." Tony's voice cracked as he spoke and he gently swiped his finger across his sons cheek. "They couldn't save your arm... they.. they had to amputate it.."

At the sound of the words leaving his fathers mouth, Bucky felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in his chest. His heart rate skyrocketed and the beeping became louder by the second, causing Tony to leap from his seat and grab ahold of his sons hand. "Bucky hey hey, shh shh it's okay, your okay."

Tension grew in his face and limbs, his breathing becoming more rapid and more shallow as he gripped at his dads hand.

"No it's not okay! I don't wanna be like this! Why do I have to be like this?!"

Not knowing what to say, Tony climbed onto the bed and gathered Bucky in his arms, combing his fingers through his hair as he weeped into his chest.

"I'm so sorry."

Bucky gripped onto Tony's shirt with his hand, hiccuping and sniffing as his father tried to calm him down, but it only seemed to make it worse.

He couldn't get the image of what's left of his arm out of his head. He was finally getting used to his body and liking what he saw and wanting to improve himself. But life always seemed to not give two shits about him.

As Bucky continued to sob into his fathers chest, listening to him mumble how it was all his fault that this had happened, how he shouldn't have picked up his gun, how much of a horrible father he was.

"I'm so sorry." Tony muttered, tearing up himself. "This is my fault. Don't blame anyone, especially yourself, for what I did to you. I shouldn't have picked up the gun, I should've known you were there. I should've ran after him! And I should've thrown that mouse out myself! If I did, then you'd still have your arm and you wouldn't be in hospital and you wouldn't be in pain! This is all my fault.."