bakerstreet | minor injury meme.

minor injury meme.

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.

INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

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[ sure, sounds like it could be fun! ]

Natasha was doing her best not to look embarrassed. Given that she had one of the best poker faces around, anyone might have thought this would be a piece of cake for her, but not so much when it came to those incredibly rare moments when she was genuinely clumsy.

If it had been in a fight, or training, or any other explain besides the fact that all she had done was come down some stairs in heels, then she might not have felt quite so awkward about first being caught by Bucky, but now also being tended to by him.

She watched him quietly through a curtain of red hair now that the loose curls were dishevelled and kept an apology held back. She did want to apologise. She wanted to apologise for having distracted him from whatever plans he'd had, or for being a damsel in distress when that had never been her intention. She wanted to apologise for the first mistep she had probably ever taken in his presence and for the subsequent sprained ankle.

"You don't need to do this," she finally settled for, spoken in almost a whisper as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks and wished there could be an attack on the Avengers Tower just to distract from her clumsiness.

While this wasn't exactly something he had expected to do today, it wasn't like she was interrupting any important plans or anything. Bucky wasn't as social as the rest of the gang, still uncomfortable in crowds and still trying to get out of weekly counselling, so his days are usually spent in the tower's gym or holed up in one of the various empty rooms trying to keep himself distracted. Some days, like today, he'd throw on one of the hoodies Steve had brought for him, gloves to keep his metal hand unnoticed, and walk around the block outside for some fresh air.

It was one of those days when he returned from a few hours outside, barely kicking off his shoes when he heard noise and Russian cursing not too far away. Concerned, he'd headed quickly towards the source of the commotion, only to discover the notorious Black Widow herself having some sort of altercation with a set of stairs and a ridiculously high pair of heels.

If he was at all surprised by the situation, he didn't let it show. Bucky didn't even say a word as he made his way over to her, guiding her arm over his shoulders as he moved his around her, metal under her legs and flesh around her back. He lifted her up carefully, wasting no time as he brought her to the nearest empty room with a comfortable enough couch to set her down on. He knew her well enough that being seen as a damsel in distress was the last thing on her wishlist, so staying out of the way of any prying eyes was a priority. Stark was probably busy in the garage anyway.

Once she was settled, Bucky crouched down on the floor to inspect the damage. It was definitely a sprain, so next he made his way to the nearest cooler or freezer (easy enough to find, what with all the bars in the tower.) He returned a few minutes later, a cold bag of frozen vegetables wrapped in a cloth in hand, and he pulled up an ottoman to sit on, carefully bringing her injured foot up to rest in his lap and gently setting the cloth over her ankle.

"Didn't feel like leaving you on the stairs," Bucky answered, a hint of a smile on his lips as he checked on her ankle again. Still swollen, but not terribly so, at least. "Someone might've tripped over you."

Natasha actually laughed a little at his joke, the corners of her mouth lifting. "As long as it's them you're worried about." The smile lasted a little longer before she wet her lips and then fell quiet as she watched him ice her ankle. She took a few moments to absorb the fact that the Winter Soldier was the one with the delicate touch. She wasn't exactly high up on the social list either but there were days she was slightly concerned with his hermit ways.

And then there were the days it seemed to just be the two of them and Natasha couldn't say she minded a chance to get to know him on her own terms. Still, a sprained ankle and embarrassing fall wasn't those terms. She cast her gaze up to the ceiling briefly before settling back against the sofa cushions now that she wasn't exactly going anywhere soon.

"You're really quite good at this, James. I suppose you had a little practice now and again coming to the rescue when fashion got the better of a lady." Natasha was already regretting her purchase, even if she did have an occasional need to indulge in Loubatins. Combat boots didn't go with all the clothes in her wardrobe. They certainly didn't go with the slimline black dress she was wearing.

Natasha found herself watching him again, eyes glancing over this hair and the way he looked in the hoodie. He was the Winter Soldier but she had stopped seeing him as only that a while ago. "Turns out I'm human."

"Obviously," came his answer as he lifted the ice bag up once more, to check on her swelling. He didn't look too satisfied, and readjusted his leg's position to raise her ankle up just a little higher - elevation was important for treating an ankle sprain. She probably just needed a little more time off her feet for it to really show. "I never have to worry about you."

And he was doing his best to be careful, not something he was too used to but something he wanted to get better practiced with. He was always rough, always harsh, always in for the kill and out quick. This delicate touch thing, it wasn't a gesture he was all that accustomed to yet (the sheer multitude of shattered mugs and bathroom mirrors could attest to that,) but this was an injured person who needed help, and preferably help from someone who wouldn't tease her about it. And while it had taken some figuring out and pointers from Natasha about how to unfasten those straps, she hadn't verbally complained about his touch yet. That had to count for something.

It did bring back a memory or two, for sure. Once, back before the war, a girl he was seeing had broken one of her heels. Other, more recent ones, while working under HYDRA's iron grip. So, at least for that, he could not his head in agreement.

"A little," Bucky answered with a shrug. "But gals in heels aren't the only clumsy ones. Had to treat a few of my own, too."

He caught her glancing over at him a few times, though he tried to avoid looking back - nervous, maybe a little bit. He certainly wasn't much to look at; an old ragged hoodie thrown on over sweats, hair pulled back in a messy tie (sloppy and half of it falling out now,) even his socks were borrowed from Steve. He really needed to do his own shopping at some point.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," he replied after, rotating the vegetable bag around for better coverage. He would have to remove it after a few minutes, to make sure he didn't accidentally give her foot frostbite. "It's probably pretty reassuring."

"'Never'?" Natasha smirked again before she pushed her hair back from her face so that she could look at him properly. "I suppose I should take the compliment. Though it makes me feel just a little off my game that you don't worry about me in any form." Natasha's plans were flexible. The truth was she hadn't actually had an intended destination. She had just been in the mood to get out of the Tower in something other than her uniform.

She braced her elbow against the back of the sofa and slid her fingers through her hair once more before settling her temple against her palm. She was still trying not to fidget, or trying not to fight the attention to her wound, but for some reason she was finding it easier to relax under Bucky's care than anyone else's. Maybe because with Barton he'd still tease her. With Steve she'd no doubt get some lecture about sensible footwear or a follow up interrogation in front of everyone. With Tony he'd never let her forget.

"I worry about you just a little," she admitted, her free hand held up to indicate a small amount of space between her finger and thumb. She made no complaints when he moved his leg and subsequently her foot but there was a slight hiss when the cool of the frozen vegetables touched her skin once more. Natasha gave him a slight shrug and a smile to indicate she was alright before he asked or apologised.

"Treated a few of your own heel injuries? I never pictured you being that much in touch with your feminine side, James. Do tell, I'm a captive audience." Her smile grew as she teased him, the expression even reaching her eyes. So few people managed to get a real smile out of her. She guarded those even more closely than she guarded her privacy.

But she could also see him avoiding her gaze and she tried her best to look elsewhere so that he'd relax again. She couldn't help it though. It was like suddenly finding yourself up close to a wild animal that has captured your imagination since childhood. Being close to Bucky was rare. She had started to catalogue his mannerisms whether it was a conscious effort on her part or not, just more ways for her to know the man under the Winter Soldier myth and programming.

She raised an eyebrow as she gave a quiet hum of thought, her eyes now on the window and the changing weather outside. Maybe staying in wasn't such a bad idea. The stairs might have done her a favour. "Depends on the context. Sometimes I think being able to survive like Rogers... like you... might not be such a bad thing. Sometimes I think I'd rather not outlive my deeds."

Truthfully, it didn't surprise him. A lot of people were worried about him, for various reasons. Steve worried about his health, physical and mental, and whether or not he was getting along well with the others and adjusting to a new life. Some others on the team worried about something making him snap and reverting to old ways, turning on them. Natasha could be on either side of the spectrum, really. Maybe both. It wouldn't be a shock, either way.

But there were two reasons he didn't worry the same about her in return. The first being, during most of his experiences with her, he knew Natasha was more than capable of taking care of herself. And the second reason was that if there was ever a possibility of her not being able to do so, then she had a team and plenty of comrades to watch out for her as well. She would be just fine, whether Bucky was in the picture or not.

Still. It wasn't as if he liked making people worry. But there was something touching about it, that someone actually gave enough of a damn about him. He was still getting used to that, too.

"Alright, then," he finally said with a nod, and turned towards her, mimicking her gesture with metal fingers. "Just a little it is, from now on."

What followed managed to make him smile, and even laugh a little, just at the mental image it produced. Wouldn't that be something. But he shook his head, giving Natasha's ankle one more look over before carefully lifting her foot from his lap so he could slide off the seat, swiping a nearby pillow to set her ankle down on instead.

"Sadly, I was never that adventurous," he continued, as he set the frozen veggies pack back down over her ankle. "Just clumsy. Sometimes, quick getaways down mountainsides don't work out so well."

He wasn't too sure of what to do next. Her ankle would take time to heal, she would have to avoid putting weight on it. Stark could probably make her a set of jet-powered crutches. But since that wasn't the best idea anytime soon (or ever,) he stood around a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Should he go find a set of non-lethal crutches? Get her something to drink, maybe? Aspirin ...

But it was a bit of change in tone with how the rest of the conversation turned out. Bucky could only shrug, deciding on drinks first as he turned around, looking for the nearest mini fridge or cooler that Stark was bound to have lying around here somewhere.

"Pretty sure everyone in this line of work has thoughts like that, at least once."

Natasha had stopped watching Bucky for signs of his programming returning. She'd given that up after the first few months. It didn't mean she wasn't ready to mount an assault should his switch get flipped, but it did mean she might not be so keen to put him in the ground. That maybe she'd consider some kind of cognitive recalibration like with Barton after he'd been under Loki's control. Assuming it could be that easy.

She was growing accustomed to his presence, to someone not as keen on Stark's festivities with a penchant for quieter celebrations like herself. Sometimes it struck her that she probably had more in common with Barnes than anyone else on the team. He just wasn't a fully fledged member yet.

Natasha smiled at his response to her teasing before shrugging as if it were a shame. "Maybe one day you'll be that adventurous. Really venture out of your shell. I'm sure those legs could stand to see a little daylight."

As he stood around awkwardly she just watched him again, realising that she wasn't exactly forthcoming with suggestions or helping to stop him from floundering. She did know she might have put up a little bit of a fight if he'd decided to just leave her on the couch. She wasn't ready for the conversation to be over even if it was taking a turn. Or for him to disappear.

"Probably, although I get the feeling that Banner would be the opposite. He'd appreciate the mortality." Natasha cleared her throat and tried to steer things back to a lighter subject area. "So since I'm a little housebound for now, did you want to perhaps join me in watching something. Or listening to something. I'm not fussed. Dancing is obviously off the table though."

Anything could happen, really. It wasn't as if his previous handlers told him everything they were doing to him off the bat, and there could still be plenty of secrets and hidden tricks stowed away somewhere in the back of his mind. If worse did come to worse ... well, Bucky just tried to keep himself away from crowds, and nearer to those capable of taking him out if need be.

He didn't want to put anyone in danger, least of all the people he was only just recently starting to call friends. Natasha was quick, always prepared, but now she was injured. While he didn't want to risk anything happening because something took hold of him again, he also didn't want to risk her being attacked because she was left alone and someone saw fit to try and blow up the tower for some inexplicable reason.

Despite his thoughts, she could still make him chuckle a bit. Maybe she could read minds.

Still, maybe it was best that he keep close, just in case. She could need a lift later on, as well. And being housebound could definitely take a toll on someone, especially the more social type. He considered it for a moment, before eventually returning to the couch, two water bottles in hand as he sat down beside her - on her left, in case she wanted to lean against him and nobody wanted to lean against a cold metal arm.

"Sure," Bucky answered as he offered one of the water bottles to her. "Raincheck on the dance for now."

There was a slight sense of satisfaction at hearing chuckle. Maybe even a little flutter in her stomach. It wasn't as if she saw it from him very much. Although she had a feeling most would say the same of her. It had taken her a while to warm to some of her teammates, but now she was relaxed enough around them that she could smile and make jokes. She just kept that side hidden in front of anyone else.

Natasha watched him go, but when he settled back on the sofa she did take advantage of his warm side and chose to lean against it. Very rarely did she ever ask for comfort, but if Barnes was willing to offer it, then she was going to take it.

Her pride was still wounded from the fall, and she did feel a little restricted for the moment in what she could or couldn't do, but with James there she did at least feel protected. Despite the fact that she knew he was always going to be on edge about whether or not he could slip back into old ways, she knew that if anything outside the Tower were to attack he'd protect them both.

She cracked open her water bottle and smiled to herself. "Seems to be a trend with us. Maybe one day we'll get that dance."

Good, Bucky thought to himself. He wasn't completely hopeless. She still wanted him near, she wanted his company. She wasn't put off by him, though probably still ready to get out of the way or take him down if something made him snap. But even despite that, she seemed comfortable around him, at least enough so to trust him to tend to an injured ankle and keep her company while she was stuck here recovering.

And the water bottles seemed like a good idea, too. So he had that going for him as well.

It was still a little awkward, getting used to personal closeness - he was sure this was something he was a lot better at, back in the day, before everything happened. But with enough time, and enough patience from her, maybe Bucky could work his way up to slipping an arm over her shoulders or something. Right now, though, it still felt weird to even think about reaching for her hand. But this, her just leaning against him while they wasted time in front of the television, he could get used to this.

"You might have to help me out a bit with that," he replied, hands firmly in his lap, flesh over metal. "There's a pretty good chance I've forgotten how."

Natasha took another sip of her water. She felt a little like she was helping James acclimatise and it wasn't such a bad thing. She didn't mind taking her time to make him more at ease with the closeness or to make him understand that she wasn't actually going to go anywhere.

She needed to earn his trust just as he needed to earn hers. It worked both ways. Natasha wasn't actually someone that rushed into a relationship, if at all. She didn't need to rush this.

And she did have to admit he could do comfort pretty well, even if she still felt the awkwardness radiating from him. She shifted just a little to be able to look up at his face.

"I can do that. I used to be pretty good at dancing. Not sure that I've forgotten, but it'll be nice to not be dancing under orders."

She really was making it easier on him. While he still didn't know much about her past and where she came from and he certainly wasn't going to pry, it felt like sometimes, she just knew. She knew what it was like, she'd been there. She turned her life around. If he tried hard enough, and especially with the same support she found, surely he could do the same. No matter how hopeless it seemed from time to time.

There was that very reminder in her words. Under orders. He tensed a little at the mention of it, both for her sake and for his own, but reminding himself that it was no longer the case for either of them now helped.

"Yeah," Bucky eventually answered, with a small nod of his head. He was probably never going to stop being awkward around her, but he could try and be less so, at least. "Only if you want to. I ain't ordering you to do anything."

One day she'd tell him. If anyone, besides Clint, could truly understand what she had been through it would be James Buchanan Barnes. While her past had been laid waste to on the internet by her own hand a long time ago, she still didn't start conversations with people by offering up her own view on it. She did want to tell him. It was a conversation that hovered on the tip of her tongue frequently but never passed her lips. She had a feeling it would be better with a bottle or two of vodka at hand.

She felt the way his muscles shifted in his arm and after a moment she lay her hand over his gently, her touch light and she'd remove it the second he asked her to. But she felt an urge to give him a physical gesture of comfort, as he had just by sitting next to her.

Natasha smirked as she looked at him. "Not many men succeed in ordering me to do something I don't want to do. Fury was always the exception when it came to SHIELD. I do want a dance with you, James. I'd like many dances actually, but I don't expect you to be doing anything you're not ready or willing to do either. Patience has become a new virtue of mine."

He would do his best. While he wasn't sure of exactly how much help he could be, if she ever needed him for anything that wasn't twisted ankles, but he could try at least. Bucky knew what Hydra was all about, how they operated, how deceptive and manipulative they were. They'd taken all of them for fools. But it was hard to talk about, from his own experiences, and he could only imagine it was the same for her.

All in good time, then. But he would admit, this right now, he was pretty fond of this. And when her hand moved over his, after the initial surprise, he couldn't help the small smile as he turned his hand over, gently brushing his thumb across her wrist.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Bucky answered with a hint of a smile. Nobody could tell Natasha what to do if she didn't want them to. "Maybe we can give it a shot, once you're feeling better. I'll try not to step on your toes."

"If ever there was a reason for a speedy recovery," she told him lightly, the smirk becoming more of a smile as she glanced down at their hands and then briefly at the television. "I'll try and forgive you when you step on my toes. Or wear my combat boots. Either way."

He hadn't asked her to remove her hand. She settled down just a little more against his side as she enjoyed the light tickle that came as his thumb rubbed her wrist.

Another little step of progress was made and Natasha was feeling less embarrassed about the twisted ankle, and more grateful that it had happened. She was sure that said something crooked about her thinking but if it meant she gained a little more ground with James then she'd take it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

minor injury meme.

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this is very late and i apologize :c

i'm just glad you wanted to keep going

for sure, just rl things getting in the way

i know them feels

they are the worst

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