![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thread continuation: tfln | imperfectsoldier
[Yeah. Steve's not more thrilled because Bucky's hand worse. That might make it worse.]
Or you can just take the antibiotics and cross your fingers.
[Field surgery in an alley. He's been in war. He's not squeamish and he can do this, but he doesn't want to. Not to Bucky. He hefts the knife in his hand a couple of time, checks the blade with his thumb though he knows it's sharp.]
All right.
[And he does. For all the hesitation to that point he sets his jaw and when he does it, he doesn't flinch. Holds Bucky with one hand, solid and hard, and cuts in. Ignores the blood and smell of blood and the way it makes him sick, and keeps ignoring it when he gets his fingers into the wound, probing for the bullet.]
no subject
Maybe.
[ He mutters just before the knife touches his skin, and he's bracing for it. Maybe he's had worse, maybe he's had full body aching and burning and suffered being frozen while alive and conscious, but this is something precise and minute - a pinpoint. His teeth grit as the knife slides in, tearing up skin that's already alight with pain, like every point of his skin exposed to the air is on fire.
There's a hiss and his lips pull back as eyes close. That's not the worst, though. It's when Steve's actually digging into the wound with a finger, and a quick, harsh, gasps escapes him, the hand on his metal limb gripping in a tight fist that has metal whining and gear turning. But he's still, enduring it. As long as Steve needs to fish the bullet out, he will be. ]
no subject
Hurting Bucky has to be his least favorite thing in the world, but even with the bullet out and knife and bullet both dropped to the ground, he doesn't stop. There's still bleeding and he handles that with the press of his hand flat against the wound.]
Look at me.