Chapter Text
It was cold out. Really fucking cold. It was cold, he didn’t have a decent coat or his pain meds or his wallet, and he was debating whether the walk to the bridge would be worth it so he could jump and end things quickly versus the slow death he was facing now.
It was his own fucking fault, too. He should have seen it coming, should have known better, should have stopped it before it got so bad. He believed a lot of the horrible things Brock had said to him, that was how it had gotten this far, but he knew he didn’t deserve to be on the street and certainly not in January. But there had been no alternative and that part was his fault. He’d been so fucked up since Afghanistan and all Walter Reed had done for him was patch him back together like Frankenstein’s monster. Of course, he’d moved in with his boyfriend who had always been a dick but had stayed with him through his deployment and hospitalization. Of course, he hadn’t cared enough to ask Brock to put him on the lease since he couldn’t have paid rent anyway without a job. Of course, he hadn’t worried about trying to reopen his credit cards. Of course, he hadn’t been in the habit of carrying his key or his phone because he was too depressed to leave the fucking apartment.
So yeah, when Brock had beat the shit out of him, again, and said he was sorry, again, of course he’d trusted him to drive him to the ER. Instead, he’d been dropped bleeding in an alleyway halfway across the city with no phone, no key, no wallet, and no meds. All he’d had were the clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet, and Brock’s words ringing in his ears. You’re not fucking worth it, you useless piece of trash.
That was over a week ago. Now, the bruising was going down, but the open wounds were infected. Now, he had even more bruises from getting the crap kicked out of him by other desperate people who saw him as vulnerable and thought he might have anything worth stealing. Now, he’d gotten past the point of vomiting bile because his stomach was so empty and had just settled for not moving because his insides couldn’t take it. Now, he looked like he’d been out here a month instead of a week with the way he smelled and the beard that had grown in jagged on his cut-up face and the shadows under his eyes. Now, he’d had a migraine for three days from the hunger and dehydration and lack of sleep and pain rippling up from his arm and he couldn’t see straight. Now, he’d given up on begging for cash to buy water, food, disinfectant for the wounds, fucking ibuprofen, because the people who walked by would just look at him in fear or disgust and keep walking. Now, he was shivering so bad his muscles ached from it and his teeth were chattering so hard they were aching too, and it was only eleven at night, plenty of time for the temperature to drop another ten degrees or more.
The only thing stopping him from that walk to the bridge was that he didn’t have the strength to drag himself there.
Footsteps. High-heeled ones. And an exasperated female voice. All approaching his alley from the north. “Ugh, Jane I’m fine. I take this route home at night all the time and you never care because you’re usually still buried in your science. I have my taser, I’m fine.”
The voice quieted, apparently listening to a response on a phonecall. Then, “I’m not going to freeze, I only have three more blocks to go and I have my coat. Chill.”
The footsteps were almost to the mouth of the alley. He was tempted to call out to the girl for help, but being tased was about the only thing that could make his situation worse. Better to let her walk by. Let it end.
“Pssh. I thought it was funny. I am plenty warm, thanks.” The footsteps stopped dead and when the girl spoke again, her tone had completely changed. “Holy shit. Jane, I’m fine but I’m hanging up.” A rustle of clothing, then the footsteps hurriedly clicking towards him, unmistakable in their intent.
He forced himself to look up at the girl as she paused a few feet away, crouched slightly to peer at him. She had dark hair falling around her face out of a beanie and her alabaster cheeks were bitten with pink from the cold wind, but what really stood out to him through the haze of pain and cold were her massive blue eyes and bright red lips. That was fear in her eyes, it had to be. “D-d-don’t…t-t-tase me…p-please,” he forced himself to say. His voice sounded raspy, though, like a fucking horror movie monster’s, and he regretted saying anything because that was probably only going to scare this girl more.
“Tase you?” the girl asked in disbelief. “Dude, you couldn’t hurt me with a shotgun and a head start right now. Do you need help? Should I call 911?”
She was offering to help him? Was he dreaming? Maybe he was already dead. He hoped death didn’t hurt this bad, but maybe this was hell. “Am…I…in-n-n…h-hell?”
“Not quite, Jersey’s on the other side of the river,” the girl said. Under other circumstances, he would have laughed at that, but she didn’t seem to be playing for a laugh. The snark just came naturally. “You definitely need help. Promise not to freak out if I help? The last thing I want to do is tase you, buddy, but I will if you freak out.”
He forced a nod.
Satisfied, the girl took two more steps closer and crouched down beside him. There was movement too fast for his tired brain to track and then warmth enveloping his head. The sound of a zipper and then there were hands on his shoulders, pulling him forward from the cold brick wall he was crumpled against. The movement made him cringe in pain, but then there was warm softness around his shoulders too. He looked down as she let him lean back again and watched her tie the sleeves of her coat around him. “Sorry, but there’s no way I’m going to get those shoulders of yours into the sleeves. That better?”
Better? It was fucking heaven. Acid tears burned his eyes and he shut them tight to will them back. Why was she doing this? No one else had given him a second glance and she’d just given him her own hat and coat.
Soft pressure on his cheeks. She was checking the wounds on his face and he didn’t even wince because his face had gone numb hours ago. “Man, I could kick the asshole that did this to your pretty face,” the girl grumbled. “You hurt anywhere else?” He forced a nod. “What happened? Do you need an ambulance?” He shook his head. “Okay, but you can’t stay here. Can you walk?” He hadn’t tried in two days. He didn’t have any injuries that would prevent walking, but he didn’t know if he could even stand right now he was so weak. “I can’t carry you, buddy, but I really want to take you home and get you warmed up. Think you can help me with that?”
Was this girl even real? He had to be hallucinating this. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. She looked a bit like a pin-up girl with the big eyes, the dark hair, and the red lips, and he didn’t think his brain was creative enough to conjure her. “D-d-don’t…kn-now.”
“If you can’t, I’ll call some help, but I think we should give it a go. I’ll help you, okay?”
He nodded wearily. The warmth from her coat and hat were making him drowsy. Or maybe that was his organs shutting down.
The girl leaned in and wrapped her arms around him tight, pulling him toward her. He scrambled a bit trying to get his completely numb legs under him and the girl cursed a blue streak when they careened sideways, but she managed to get him standing against the wall, the breath coming and going from his lungs in wheezy rasps. His head swam and his stomach clenched like he might vomit, but that wasn’t likely. The last thing he’d consumed had been something out of the garbage four days ago that he’d vomited up an hour later, that and dirty puddle water. “Breathe,” the girl said. “You got this. Just take a breath.” He took one, then another, and the second breath was less shaky than the first. “Good boy. Come on, let’s go.”
She kept one arm firmly around him and her free hand on his right elbow under her coat. His legs wobbled like he was a newborn foal as they moved, his knees ready to betray him and crumple under him, but the girl kept him steady, which was pretty impressive in her high-heeled boots. She talked to him the whole time, though the words went in and out of focus, encouraging him and praising him. “Good. You got this, honey. We gotta keep moving. I’m not going to be able to get you off the ground a second time. Come on, buddy, one more block. Good job. Keep coming.”
It was the bright lights above that told him she’d gotten him into her apartment building, that and her swearing as she hammered on the button for an elevator. The machine sounded questionable at best, but there was no way he was going to make it up any stairs right now. The lurch and grinding of the elevator as they rode up had him dry-heaving and the girl held him tight with both arms while he shuddered, even though if there was anything in his stomach it would have poured right down her back. “Shh…” she soothed, hands on his back, arms firm around him. “Shh…you’re okay. You gotta relax, buddy. We’re almost there.”
The elevator mercifully stopped then, and they were shuffling out and down the hall. Thank fuck her door was the first one on the right and it only took her a moment to get it open. Her apartment was dark and she just flicked on one lamp to guide them once they were safe behind her locked door. It didn’t feel much warmer than the rest of the building, which didn’t feel much warmer than outside, but there was no chill in the air. “Let’s keep going. I’m going to put you in the tub to warm you up. Come on.” His legs were fucking shaking and his arm was screaming at him and he just wanted to collapse on her floor and die, but they’d made it this far. The bathroom was small and blue and bright and when they made it to the edge of the tub and she tried to ease him down, he did collapse, landing in a heap in the tub on his right arm, not the left thank fuck. The girl yelped as she got pulled down with him and actually landed on him. “Sorry, dude. Oh wow, you look like death warmed over in this light. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
She extricated herself and knelt outside of the tub, tugging off his sneakers and her coat, then starting the water. It took a few minutes to warm up to her specifications, not that he hardly noticed. His eyes had fallen shut and everything he was hearing seemed to be happening underwater. The was a thunk and then the water was pooling around him, hot and seeping through his clothes to his vibrating flesh. It felt amazing and horrible at the same time, like a thousand needles driving into his extremities and like molten chocolate hugging his core. He shuddered and grimaced and the girl held his hands under the water and massaged his fingers through the pain, slow and soothing. “Easy, buddy. This is the only thing that’s gonna help. Stay with me, here.”
He was still shivering when the tub was full and she shut off the water, might even be shivering more, but nothing was numb anymore and it was easier to fight the blackness threatening to consume his vision when he opened his eyes. The girl was still massaging his hands and was leaned over him far enough that the ends of her hair were dragging in the water. Her eyes were still huge, maybe that was their natural state, and when he met them, she smiled. “There you are. You’re okay now, hon. Just try to relax and breathe. My name’s Darcy.”
“B-Bucky.”
“You’re going to be okay, Bucky.” Darcy released his hands then and stood, moving away. He wanted to beg her not to leave him, his fucking eyes burned with tears again of all things, but then there was water running in the sink and she was back, pressing a cup to his lips. “Drink some water.” He obeyed. The water was warm and it tasted so fresh and felt so fucking good that he drained the little cup. “Easy,” Darcy said, setting down the cup. “Give your stomach a minute, then you can have more.” He wanted to argue, needing that water so fucking bad, but his stomach was actually complaining and he clenched his jaw through the nausea and pain.
Darcy moved to the sink again and when she knelt beside him again, she had a wet washcloth. The fabric was soft and the water so warm, but he still flinched when she touched his face with it. “Shh…” she murmured. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s not going to get better if leave it like that, though.” She was right and he cringed, but allowed her to wash his face, then remove the hat and shift him so he was laying back lower in the tub. She washed his hair and his insides twisted and his eyes burned with embarrassment at how fucking filthy he was, but she didn’t flinch, just combed her tiny fingers through the grime until his hair was soft and wet and something resembling clean. She helped him sit up a bit again, then unplugged the tub and let the water begin to gurgle down the drain. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re going to feel so much better if we can get you clean. Want to help me get your clothes off? At least most of them?”
Bucky eyed the grey-brown water and actually shuddered in revulsion, then nodded. He was moving a little easier now that he wasn’t so fucking cold and once Darcy got him sitting upright, he was able to keep himself that way and help her maneuver his arms out of his jacket, then his shirt. His arm was throbbing and screaming at him and he gritted his teeth and grimaced through it. He didn’t dare look at Darcy’s face as she peeled the wet shirt off of him, but he heard her hiss. “Oh sweetie,” she said quietly, fingertips trailing over the bruises on his ribs and the older scars on his left arm and side. “Let me get you out of the rest of this and start the water back up, then I’m going to get you some ibuprofen or something, kay? That does not look fun.”
That was all. No horror, no revulsion, no fear, no questions. Just sympathy. He could hear Brock’s voice rattling around in his head and couldn’t believe she wasn’t echoing the words. Fuck, man, that is disgusting. Sorry, but there’s no way I can get off if I’m looking at that. Christ.
Darcy peeled off his socks, then started on his jeans, which were a fight to get off wet when he could barely lift his hips to help her. By the time she dropped them in a pile of wet slop outside the tub, the last of the water was rippling down the drain and he was shivering in the cold air. “You’re okay, Bucky,” she said, hands moving quickly to drop the plug and start the water back up. Once the tub was slowly filling again, she grabbed a fluffy bath towel and wrapped it around his shoulders, hugging him tightly as he shook. Tears flooded his eyes again and this time, he couldn’t stop it, wasn’t numb enough anymore, and sobs were shaking his shoulders along with the cold as he began to cry in her arms. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying…there were plenty of reasons but none stood out. He just couldn’t fucking hold it in anymore. “Shh…” Darcy murmured, bending her head to lean it on his. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re safe. You’re okay now. It’s okay.”
“Y-you…should’ve…l-l-let me…d-die,” Bucky choked out between sobs. He wasn’t worth her trouble. Not one bit.
“Yeah, no,” Darcy said, as if such a thing wasn’t even worth considering. “I’m sorry nobody else helped you, honey, but no one deserves to die like that. Besides, I got a hot guy in my tub out of the deal, so no biggie.” Maybe it was the shock of it all, but that actually wrenched a laugh out of him. “Yeah, if you’re not warm enough and you want to share body heat, I’m totally down.”
He snorted and let his head loll forward wearily. “I’m disgusting, doll.”
“You want a sponge bath first? I’m down for that too.”
Unbelievable. Bucky shook his head and wrenched it up again so he could look at Darcy. She was looking right back, still holding him tight with her chin on his shoulder. A crooked little smile was curving her red lips. “Fucking A, you have gorgeous eyes. Are those blue or grey or both? Don’t answer that, I’d rather keep staring and decide for myself. Oh, if you’re not interested, no pressure, but full disclosure, I am totally going to remember this the next time I need a fix.” She totally meant it too, he could see it in her eyes and her smirk. He couldn’t help laughing again and his lips curled into what almost felt like a smile. Darcy grinned cheekily and adjusted the towel around him to keep it out of the water as the tub filled. “Yeah, you can keep those boxer briefs on if it makes this less creepy, but I would totally be fine with them going if you want to get clean everywhere. Just saying.”
He snorted again and shrugged. “If you d-don’t mind…I w-w-would…r-really love to…n-not be wearing th-the same underwear I…l-left home in a week ago.”
“Oh yeah, we’re going to burn those, then.” The water was high enough now that Darcy retracted the towel, helped him lay back into the tub, and shut the water off. Darcy met his gaze, her eyes sparkling and that cheeky grin on her face. Fuck, she was cute. “I promise not to molest you or whatever, but you probably want help, huh?”
Bucky shook his head in amazement, again wondering if he was hallucinating, but there was no way his brain could manage to produce this. “B-be my guest.”
Darcy slowly sank her hands into the water and his eyes dropped shut at the tingling touch of her fingertips at his hips. “Oh yeah, this is so going in my spank bank,” Darcy said, slowly peeling his boxer briefs down his thighs. What could have been a really awkward situation had him laughing softly at this shameless, sweet girl. “This is life goals right here, dude. Fuck yes. Yeah, you definitely don’t need underwear. Like, ever. You are totally welcome to lay in my tub naked indefinitely.” Bucky laughed a bit harder and watched Darcy drop his dripping wet underwear on the pile with his jeans. She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, eyes raking over him before coming up to meet his gaze. “Hot and you have a nice laugh? Sorry, honey, but you’re never leaving. Hope you don’t mind smelling like jasmine, though. That’s all I got for body wash.”
“That’s fine, doll,” he said, still chuckling. He was barely shivering now and his teeth had finally stopped chattering, which was such a fucking relief on his aching mouth and jaw. “Anything’s an improvement right now, seriously.”
“Fabulous.” Darcy popped open a bottle and poured a liberal amount of pale blue liquid into the tub, then more onto the washcloth she’d used on his face. “So, seriously. Sponge bath? I volunteer as tribute.”
“Are you even real?” he asked, shaking his head again. “I’m so gross and pathetic and you don’t know me at all and you want to give me a sponge bath?”
Darcy quirked her eyes upward to contemplate this for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. “Yep. You might be a psycho, but I’m definitely fine with dying this way. Your call.”
Maybe he was dead and this was heaven. Normally his skin would be crawling being naked in front of a stranger (hell, a human) since Afghanistan, but Darcy was so transparent and so blatantly not judging him after everyone else had that he was pretty okay with it. Shockingly okay with it. “Fuck it. Sure. I’d love that ibuprofen first, though.”
“Deal.” Darcy pretty literally scurried to her medicine cabinet, shook a couple of ibuprofen into her hand, refilled the water cup, and returned to his side. He chased the ibuprofen with the entire cup of water, sagging against the back of the tub because it felt so good going down his throat. Darcy set the cup aside and started very slowly scrubbing at his hand with the washcloth, moving up his arm. “We’re going to put some antiseptic on those cuts when we’re done here, too,” she said. “Sorry, bud, but those are totally infected.”
He wasn’t about to argue with that. Definitely not when her gentle movements felt so fucking good on his skin. Christ, she’d only made it to his elbow and he was putty in her hands. It was pretty pathetic, but after the week and, really, the year he’d had, he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. When she made it to his shoulder, careful to wash every inch of him along the way, Darcy moved to his left arm. He tensed, but she was so damn gentle on his scarred flesh and it was so warm and the cloth and her skin so soft, his zinging nerves and twisted scar tissue quieted beneath her hands. It felt so good that a pathetic little moan bubbled up from his throat and he kind of wanted to die of embarrassment, but Darcy just took her time, moving back down his arm once she reached his shoulder, massaging away the pain. “I hate to ask this, Bucky…” Darcy said. His stomach twisted, waiting for the sickening question. “But did you get this patched up in, like, an alley in Mexico City or something? ‘Cuz if this was an American doctor, I would totally sue them.”
A choking laugh bubbled up from him and he stared at her in incredulity. She was smiling just a bit and had an eyebrow raised expectantly, but had not stopped massaging his arm. “Um, sorry. That is not what I thought you were going to ask. It happened in Afghanistan, so the emergency medical was kind of shoddy, but the last two surgeries were at Walter Reed. Tax dollars at work.”
Darcy curled her lip in distaste and growled under her breath, focus back on his arm as she worked. “That’s fucking horrible. Isn’t Walter Reed that VA hospital that was in the news because it’s a hellhole?”
“That’s it.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. That really sucks.” And that was all. She gradually moved back up his arm and washed his neck and back, then started down his chest, paying extra attention to the scar tissues on his left side just as she had with his arm. He’d been certain she wanted the story of what had happened to him, but she hadn’t asked, not even when he’d made it clear he’d gotten it in a warzone. He’d been sure he would have to recount the story, relive it, but she hadn’t asked. He turned liquid again in relief.
Darcy’s movements seemed to slow as she dragged the washcloth down his chest, even though there weren’t scars or bruises there, and he looked up at her. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a crooked tilt to her lips as her wide eyes focused on his body. He’d lost a ton of weight since Afghanistan, especially in the last week, and missed the body he’d worked so hard for, but she didn’t seem to mind. He stared at her in disbelief, but she was definitely taking liberties right now to check him out and touch just a little longer than necessary. Brock was attracted to him in a way, but there were constant backhanded comments from him that in the last few months, when Bucky was feeling fragile anyway, had been enough to make him feel utterly undesirable. The criticism had always fallen flat before he deployed, but since he came back in pieces, every word had felt like a bullet. “It’s been a while since anyone looked at me like that,” he whispered.
Darcy just smirked, eyes not lifting, utterly shameless in her appreciation. “Well, they seriously missed out.”
Not exactly. His throat closed up, but he felt so fucking vulnerable and pathetic right now that he couldn’t help the words. “No, doll. My boyfriend didn’t look at me like that.”
Darcy’s face twisted into an angry scowl. Her dark eyes flicked up to meet his and she said quietly, “Hang on. You had a boyfriend…and he didn’t appreciate how stupid hot you are? That’s what you’re saying?”
Bucky looked away, face burning in embarrassment and misery. “I was hot, I’ll give you that. And he liked it. Then I got blown half to hell and put back together by Victor Frankenstein and I was too fucked in the head to want to eat or work out so I lost a ton of muscle…. I don’t look like I did when I met him. And he stayed with me through my deployment and recovery and all that garbage, which was great, but yeah. He wasn’t real impressed anymore.”
“What a piece of shit,” Darcy grumbled. “Look at me, Bucky.” He did. Some of her anger was gone, replaced by earnestness. “You’re stupid hot. Okay? And I’m glad he’s your ex, not your current boyfriend, because he was obviously a shithead.”
His chest felt like it was caving in and Bucky shut his eyes as the tears threatened a reprise. “Well, at least with him I had a roof over my head.”
He could feel Darcy’s eyes boring into him. “What are you saying? Are you saying that you were freezing to death in an alley because your boyfriend kicked you out?” He locked his jaw as his throat clogged with sobs and Darcy very carefully stroked his temple with her fingertips, avoiding the cuts and bruises where Brock had punched him and the mugger had kicked him. “Jesus, fuck. Bucky…sweetheart…that’s really horrible. He’s really horrible. I’m so sorry. There wasn’t anyone else you could go to?” He shook his head once rather than risk answering verbally. Darcy continued to stroke his temples. His mom had always done that when he was sick as a kid and it felt so fucking safe and sweet and wonderful. God, he missed his mom. “There’s nothing in your pockets. You didn’t have a phone or wallet or anything.” He nodded once. “That’s insane. Is there anyone I can call for you? Your family?” He couldn’t help cringing at that, which was answer enough. “Shh…that’s okay. You’re safe here. You don’t need to worry, I’m not going to kick you out. Actually, I’m not going to let you leave, I’m certainly not going to kick you out. What a jackass. Wow. That’s really fucked up that he’d do that to you. I’m sorry, hon.”
He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he kept his eyes shut and just leaned into her hand on his head.
Eventually, Darcy returned to quietly washing his body, her hands slow and soothing as they scrubbed his skin clean. It chased away the misery and left his brain floating above him somewhere as she carefully lifted one leg and then the other to wash all the way around them. She paused a moment, mumbling to herself, “Okay, Darce. You got this. Just breathe through it and you can have some quality time with your vibrator later.”
Bucky couldn’t help snorting at that. “You’re adorable.”
“No. I’m not adorable, don’t encourage this. I’m trying to be professional here! I was being so inappropriate flirting with you and you don’t swing my way and your ex is a monster and you totally don’t deserve me getting hot and bothered all over you right now,” Darcy rambled, her voice half an octave higher than it had been. Bucky cracked one eye open to peer at her curiously. She was staring at the tile wall of the tub, face and neck blushing fiercely, hands on his upper thigh, mumbling to herself again. “Okay. Breathe. You’ve got this, Darcy. You’ve totally got this.”
“You know you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” Darcy stiffened and Bucky did too in an effort to control the way his skin was starting to crawl with nerves. “Seriously, doll. You already saved my fucking life. This is way awkward to do to a stranger and I don’t want you upset.”
Darcy met his gaze with especially wide eyes. “Oh, I am definitely not upset or uncomfortable. I have never been more comfortable in my life.”
He rolled his eyes and shut them both again. Then, Darcy slowly skated her hands up to his hip and very gently began to wash the last of him. His nerves crackled to life and he tried to be sneaky about taking a slow, deep breath. This was weird enough without his libido kicking in. He definitely couldn’t fault her for not being thorough, though, and there wasn’t much besides staying still that he could do to hide his interest, so he wasn’t surprised when Darcy spoke again a minute later with a smirk in her voice. “You swing both ways, don’t you?”
Bucky exhaled slowly. No point to suffocating himself trying not to move now. “Yep.”
“God, you’re perfect,” Darcy groaned. One corner of his lip curled upward of its own will. Then, Darcy retracted her hands from the water and rocked back on her heels. “Smirk all you want. That is the finest dick I have held in my life. Seriously, you’re checking every box on this fantasy, buddy.”
“Every box?”
“Was that a sex joke too? God damn. It’s like I created you in a lab. I’m going to find you some clothes and something for those cuts, okay? Not because I want to, but it seems like the right thing to do, I suppose.”
Bucky snorted. “Thanks, doll.”
“That’s another thing. Who calls a girl ‘doll’ anymore?”
He shrugged. “Never would normally, but you look like a ‘doll’ to me. Like a 40’s pin-up girl. I’ll stop if it bothers you. It’s not very…updated or feminist.”
“Yeah, you definitely came out of a lab. Have you ever met a girl who wouldn’t be flattered if you told her she looked like a pin-up girl? I guess I’ve known uptight women who would find that objectifying or whatever, but I’m definitely flattered.” She paused, lost in thought for a moment, then jolted back to life. “Yeah. Clothes now. Before I start offering to share body heat again.”
Bucky shook his head and listened to her leave the bathroom and start rustling around in a nearby closet. A part of him was still thinking he might be dead and in heaven. Where had this girl come from? She was seriously something else.
Darcy returned a few minutes later with a pile of clothes that she set on the toilet and a tube of antibiotic cream. The cream stung, but he gritted his teeth through it knowing that the burn meant it was working. Then, Darcy unplugged the tub and very softly touched his right shoulder. “No falling asleep yet. Let’s get you dry and put some calories in you first, huh?”
His eyes snapped open at the thought of food and his stomach knotted itself up to remind him of how empty it was. He sat up and cooperated as best as he could while she dried his upper half, fluffing his hair with the towel. Then, she dragged a giant t-shirt and equally giant sweatshirt over his arms and head. Thank god for ibuprofen and for Darcy’s lovely hands because his arm barely complained at all at the movements involved in that. Drying and dressing the rest of him was more of a trick since it involved him perching on the edge of the tub for a minute, but it happened somehow. “Lucky for you I like my Sunday clothes three sizes too big or you and your fabulous shoulders would’ve been out of luck,” Darcy said as she helped him to his feet. “Let’s plant you on the couch. I think I have soup or something.”
Her couch was so damn soft and squishy. He could feel her favorite spot in the form of a rut in the cushions and curled up in it like a damn cat while she puttered in the kitchen. It was pretty pathetic, but it wasn’t like it would be worthwhile to pretend he had a shred of dignity left.
It was the middle of the night, but Darcy didn’t seem tired at all, which he was glad for. If he had reason to think he was keeping her from bed, he would have felt more guilty than he already did about imposing on her. He was very nearly asleep when Darcy returned to the living area and perched on the coffee table in front of him. He peered at her blearily and she offered a bottle of Gatorade and an oversized mug with a spoon sticking out of it. “I have grape Gatorade and chicken broth. Don’t be dumb and have so much that you get sick, but you totally need some calories and electrolytes and shit before you sleep, dude.”
Bucky forced himself into a mostly upright position and took a few sips of the Gatorade, then traded it for the broth. After the week he’d had, both made him feel like he was dining at a five-star restaurant. He tried to pace himself because she was right that he didn’t want to throw up right now, but it was so fucking good.
When he gave up on the food for the night, Darcy put what he hadn’t finished in her fridge and returned with a glass of water and a giant afghan made of ridiculously soft, knobby yarn. She draped the blanket over him and he instantly melted. “You’re an angel,” he said.
Darcy snorted. “Um, no. That’s sweet, but no. If I was an angel, I would at least pretend that I was going to try to sleep without first getting off thinking about you, but yeah, that’s one hundred percent going to happen.”
Bucky chuckled and looked up at her through slitted eyes. She was smirking at him again and looked gorgeous in the dim light. The humor left him quickly, though, and he reached out to take her hand. When he did, her own smile faded a bit and he whispered, “Seriously. You saved my life. Thank you.”
“I almost took an Uber home because of the cold and I’m so glad I didn’t,” Darcy said quietly. She turned her hand over in his to grip his fingers. “I could never have left you there, Bucky, and it makes me sick that someone did. Even if you were a psycho and I had to tase you, I would have gotten you help. No one deserves to be where you were.”
“I was out there a week, doll. I begged for help, told people I just needed water, food, over-the-counter pain meds. It wasn’t just one person who left me there. It was everyone but you.”
Darcy’s eyes tightened shut and she bowed her head to kiss his knuckles. Warmth crept outward along his skin from her lips. “People are monsters. I’m so glad I found you.” She kissed his hand again, then carefully buried it beneath the blanket with the rest of him. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” he whispered one last time. She smiled, ran her fingers once through the hair she’d washed for him, then turned off the lamp and went to bed. He was asleep before she’d finished brushing her teeth.