[ A tired, toneless drawl. Knew it was coming sooner or later, he's surprised they even made it this far.
Steve can barely hobble with help, let alone by himself. Bucky's using up the last of himself half-carrying him, and it's burning every muscle from his shoulder to his hip to even do this much.
His forward pace won't falter, and that's partly because he's not sure he'll start again once he stops.
He's got a purpose, though. Got a mission, and that's helping. It gets them all the way into the apartment, the door kicked absently shut behind him, and he's gonna steer them right on through to the bathroom.
No offense, pal, but it's a goddamn relief to finally deposit Steve's weight somewhere other than his shoulders right now. The toilet seat can bear that burden for a while, so he can mindlessly gather up what he needs to finish all of this finally.
It's like a mechanical, scripted process. Pacing to the kitchen. Running water. The shake of pills in a plastic container. The trek back, and the murmured: ]
Take these.
[ A cabinet opening and shutting. Peroxide and cotton balls, antibacterial and bandages. He's done this a million times before, his body knows how to do it again with minimal thought. ]
no subject
[ A tired, toneless drawl. Knew it was coming sooner or later, he's surprised they even made it this far.
Steve can barely hobble with help, let alone by himself. Bucky's using up the last of himself half-carrying him, and it's burning every muscle from his shoulder to his hip to even do this much.
His forward pace won't falter, and that's partly because he's not sure he'll start again once he stops.
He's got a purpose, though. Got a mission, and that's helping. It gets them all the way into the apartment, the door kicked absently shut behind him, and he's gonna steer them right on through to the bathroom.
No offense, pal, but it's a goddamn relief to finally deposit Steve's weight somewhere other than his shoulders right now. The toilet seat can bear that burden for a while, so he can mindlessly gather up what he needs to finish all of this finally.
It's like a mechanical, scripted process. Pacing to the kitchen. Running water. The shake of pills in a plastic container. The trek back, and the murmured: ]
Take these.
[ A cabinet opening and shutting. Peroxide and cotton balls, antibacterial and bandages. He's done this a million times before, his body knows how to do it again with minimal thought. ]