James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes (comradebarnes) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-01-26 23:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, bucky barnes (winter soldier), faiza hussain (excalibur) |
Who: Bucky Barnes and Dr. Faiza Hussein
What: Getting his injury checked out
When: After this post
Where: Bucky's apartment
Rating/Warning: PG, discussion of amputation
Status: Complete!
Bucky was still a bit shell-shocked, especially about how quickly all this was happening. He’d lost the arm last night, spent a sleepless, twitching day at Jean’s apartment, and was now at home waiting for Doctor Hussein. Faiza. He actually sort of appreciated that she’d been honest about re-attaching the arm, but he hoped she could at least give him a clean bill of health. The first in a line of many worries.
Faiza’s old sedan pulled up to the house, and she grabbed her bag, hopping out and then quickly making her way up to the door. She fidgeted with her headscarf (red with white flowers today) as she knocked at the door.
Bucky heard the door and was over in a shot. He’d put on the only long-sleeved shirt he owned, his formal shirt for playing concerts. Which he wouldn’t be doing for a while.
He opened the door to see a pretty woman in a hijab, with a doctor’s bag. “Doctor Hussein. Hi.” He gestured with his good arm to come in. “Hope the place wasn’t hard to find.” He was being as polite as he knew how, but even Bucky could tell there was a dullness to his voice.
She nodded at him, meeting his eyes, but she could tell something was up with his arm right off the bat. “It wasn’t that difficult.” She stepped inside and gave him a reassuring smile. She flexed her fingers. She could sense the junction between metal and biological, but she wouldn’t be able to tell more until she pulled him apart.
“Good.” Bucky closed the door, beckoning her into the living room. “What do I need to do? Is there anything I can help with?” He wasn’t sure what she’d do other than poke it and say ‘yup, that’s metal’, but he figured it was better to consult a professional.
“Just sit tight there,” she said and gestured with her hands. “You’re going to feel a wee bit uncomfortable but it won’t hurt. Most tend to get a bit ill, though. May I see the arm?”
“Yes.” His overwhelming impulse was to say no - he didn’t want anyone to see it - but he knew that was stupid. Bucky unbuttoned the shirt, taking it off to reveal the undershirt and metal underneath. The arm was dull grey, the color of any embattled piece of steel, welded and molded into the right shape. There was a red Russian star on the shoulder. “I can handle whatever.” Except this, of course.
Faiza nodded her head thoughtfully, in full Doctor mode. She tapped her finger lightly against the metal. "Do you know what kind of metal it is?" It seemed rather heavy and durable, which meant it was probably a strain to cart around.
She thought she might be able to increase the density of his nerves and bones where they attached to the arm. Reduce the wear. But she had to take him apart at first. She flexed her fingers and then suddenly, Bucky was pulled apart. His skin was around them in ribbons, his skeleton taken apart, even his organs just kind of floating there.
She kept his arm partially attached to his shoulder and spun it in the air, looking closely. "It's fully bonded to you. Whoever or whatever did this did a remarkable job with the replacement. Are you able to feel anything through it when you touch things?"
All of a sudden, he was in pieces, and it was hard not to freak out. He could see his own limbs float away, including the fake arm, worryingly with what looked like shoulder attached. "Not the specific metal, no." He tried to sound calm. "And I can't really feel anything, but it might be getting better?" Bucky wasn't sure. "I thought I could feel something the other night, but I figured it was phantom sense or just wishful thinking." He'd held onto the steaming hot coffee mug and noticed something -barely - but he'd felt stupid every time he wanted to bring it up with Jean. No sense getting anyone's hopes up.
"Well it looks like nerve bundles are repairing themselves and lacing through the metal. I can feel it." Perhaps she could speed that up a little bit. Not immediately, but it would heal faster. "Eventually I think. I'll speed it up a little but I'd rather let your body handle it naturally. It's healthier that way." She gave him a quick once over to check for any major problems. More than once she'd caught something this way and she just didn't have it in her to not look.
“Really?” That actually did help matters a little. Bucky could manage, if he could feel things with that arm. “I just ... I didn’t ask for this, but at least I can still do things with it. Is there a way to make it look less ... freakish?”
“Not something that I can do.” She started to put Bucky back together. “I can manipulate it but not that well. There are some I’ve seen on the network that might be able to help, but I’m not sure I’d be able to trust them.”
“I guess I should just be okay with having feeling in it.” Bucky was about to say more, but then his world shifted focus again, and he had to actively try not to vomit. His vision was suddenly upside down, and he gasped out, “No infections or anything like that?”
"Everything is clean. You had a bit of gunk in your lungs but I took care of that." Faiza squeezed his good shoulder. "How are you feeling, besides your arm, duck?"
Once he got his equilibrium back, he felt able to answer. “Shell shocked,” Bucky said. “Mentally, a wreck. Physically, I actually feel surprisingly good. Thank you for the ... gunk removal. I used to smoke, so I’m sure there’s still crap in there.”
"I'm the wrong kind of doctor, duck. I fix bodies, not minds. I can give you a few recommendations to that effect." She took out a little notepad and scribbled out a few names. "And it's no problem. I recommend you avoid smoking regularly. I'm not going to be around to do that regularly." she winked at him.
He had to smile a little. “Could you? Really? Cause honestly, I need ...” He looked away, doing his best to keep his composure. He didn’t want to lose it in front of her, somehow. “Do you deal with this often? People who’ve lost limbs or gained powers or whatever from their damn dreams?”
She gently handed over the paper. "Oh, I have. I had one girl come in bleeding severely. I've heard of others with stomach wounds and scars." Lara had never asked for help but Faiza liked to keep a catalogue of people with injuries. "The woman I work for woke up with implants one day. She also has facial scars she's never let me fix. And then there's the powers."
Faiza ticked off on her fingers. "Walking through walls, eye beams, ability to show one's worse fear or desire, flight, super durability and energy blasts, fireworks, vampirism...I could probably go on, but that's just who I've seen here. That doesn't count the people I've dreamed of. It’s more common than you think. You’re not alone, duck.”
“I didn’t think I was alone, really, just never anticipated it’d happen to me.” Bucky looked down. “Even in the dreams I’m no big deal. Just a grunt, a soldier. I do my job. If anything I’d have expected my best friend to have this happen - he’s the one they used to talk about like he was superhuman. Hell, even if I did get injured in the war, I’d expect to come home with a sleeve pinned up, not some crazy metal apparatus.”
She nodded her head. “I understand. I was just a doctor and then one day I was zapped by an alien ray when I was trying to triage on the battlefield. It’s something that no one is ever prepared for.”
Hearing it did help, but only a little. “I’ll probably find somebody to talk to. I’ve been a little scared to tell my best friend, and my girl only knows because she was sleeping next to me when it happened.” That was more feeling than he wanted to go into, so he just shrugged and tried to smile. “I’m a musician.” Or was.
Faiza picked up his metal hand and rested it between her own. “That doesn’t need to change. I’m certain you’ll still be able to make music. Just perhaps a little differently now.”
He desperately wanted to believe her, but even with the arm, even if he could feel things with it, he’d have to re-learn the piano all over again. His timing would be off, and his reflexes might as well be those of a drunk man. Bucky felt tears forming in his eyes from the sheer anger brewing in his gut, and he coughed, turning away, not wanting to lose control in front of her. “Hopefully one day.”
“Don’t let yourself give up.” She withdrew her hand and straightened her shoulders. “If Harriet Cohen could continue performing with one hand, then I think a man of your talent can as well. But not if you let yourself give up."
“I don’t know who that is.” It might do him good to look her up. Bucky took a breath to calm down. “Thanks, Dr. Hussein. At least it’s not gonna slowly poison me or something.” He wouldn’t get suicidal over this - he had too many people who loved him, even if he was feeling pretty futile right now - but he didn’t know what would happen next.
"Just one of several pianists who've worked with only one arm," Faiza replied, winking at him. "Disability can be frightening, but it doesn't mean the end of everything." She wanted to be encouraging for him.
“Thanks.” Bucky managed a smile. “I’ll try to keep it in mind. Promise.”
She gave him another smile. “If you ever need to talk, just ring me up, all right?”
“I may take you up on that.” He showed her to the door, feeling slightly better, but only just.