This is not the Endgame

How much you wanna risk?

Bucky went home and to Ava's apartment so that he could bring her a fresh set of clothes. He peeked into the bathroom; it was small, with only the shower stall, but at least she wouldn't have to try to get in and out of the big tubs that had been used.  He couldn't think of anything else he could do, so he ran errands, including replacing his phone, until it was time to go pick her up. She still looked tired, but signed herself out and took the mass of aftercare instructions without complaint. The nurse rolled her wheelchair  down to the cab; Bucky carried the crutches. Ava nodded off on the ride home, listing gently to the side until her head was on Bucky's flesh shoulder and drooling slightly. She was embarrassed when they pulled up in front of the building; he shouldn't have been charmed but he was a little, it meant a lot to him that he was trusted enough to sleep around. Bucky paid the cabbie and carried Ava's bag and the plastic bag from the hospital with what was salvageable from the previous day--her underwear, socks, and shoes, mainly. Her clothes, including her coat, had been torn and bloodstained. Ava extracted herself from the cab with Bucky's help and crutched awkwardly to the door; the fatigue and painkillers were making her clumsy. Bucky walked slightly behind so that he could grab her if she fell, moving quickly to open and hold the door and calling the elevator.

Ava was losing power when they reached her floor and Bucky asked and received permission to pick her up. It strained her leg a bit, which was painful, and his ribs, which also hurt, but was faster and required less exertion on her part to reach her apartment. He set her down gently and helped with her shoes and coat. "What do you need, doll?"

"I'm hungry and filthy," she said after a moment.

"I have a few meal replacement shakes for snacks," he said. "They're not too bad. You could have one to help with your strength but not fill your stomach up too much in case you get nauseated, then... you could wrap your leg in plastic wrap and take a shower, then take a nap." She looked thoughtful.

"That sounds pretty good," she said. "I'm so tired. The surgery wasn't bad, they told me, mostly cleaning the wounds and sewing things up. Got a tetanus booster. But the nurses kept waking me up. And I'm stiff and sore from falling during the explosion." She snorted. "Listen to me whine. I'm lucky to be here."

"I'm just glad it wasn't worse, Ava," he said quietly, then left to bring a couple of the chilled plastic bottles for her. He sat patiently while she sipped, then brought over her bathrobe--a new one, a soft and fluffy plum fleece--and turned around while she got undressed and put the robe on. In the bathroom, she sat on the toilet lid while he moved the shower head so it would hit at a good angle when she sat on the built-in little bench, turning on the water so it would warm up. She quickly wrapped some plastic wrap over the bandages, then leaned on him as she hopped the few steps to the door. He turned around again, staying until she said she was set, then exited the bathroom to stand by the door, ready to help when she called. He used her shower time to text Steve, letting him know she was home, tired but ok, and turned down her bed, plumping her pillows a bit. Her nightgown was stashed under her pillow. She had an electric blanket, which he turned on to warm up. He heard the hairdryer, and shortly afterward, she opened the door. The small exertions had tired her out again, but she said she felt better for the beverage. Her leg was aching something fierce and it was time for her medications. Rather than straining her leg by carrying her around bridal style or in a fireman's carry, he wrapped his arms around her middle, lifted, and carried her that way to her bed. He turned around again and stayed there until she said she was set.

"My medicines are in the bag," she said wearily, and he retrieved the whole bag, fishing out the orange plastic vials and placing the bag on the floor where she could get to it easily, going to get her a glass of water. "Thanks, Bucky. I really appreciate it."