[ well, that certainly is a name. his brow quirks the slightest bit as he leans back in to tape the wound, carefully again with only the left, the vibranium hand. ]
Bucky.
[ it's all he offers back before he's focused in again on carefully taping the gash. it's not really a difficult process, but there's always that annoyance of misplacing the strip the first time and the stickiness growing weaker when you have to replace it, so it's still best to do it right the first time and not have to worry about it later. that and tearing the sticker away could just agitate the wound further anyway, which does nothing to help with the healing, so. really, it's just the practical thing to do.
blood seeps as he tapes, which is inevitable, and though it mostly stays controlled, a bead forms just as he finishes the last, and it trickles down the side of her face. ]
Shit-- [ he quickly cups the edge of her chin to keep it staining her clothes as he uses his right hand to dig for a square of gauze. ] Sorry. Probably should have. Erm. I'm not so used to patching up others. And not making a mess.
[ it's vaguely put, but he seems to imply that he's hardly this clean about it when it comes to patching himself.
he uses the gauze to carefully soak up the drop, though the trail has already mostly dried and his attempt to clean it up only smears it and makes it worse. a faint knit forms between his brows, a flash of a frown directed at himself as he grabs another disinfectant wipe to rip open. ]
[ Bucky. it's not a name that's used much anymore, at least it wasn't in the world she came from. it's... old-fashioned, a name the boy next door would have had. the guy who got into all sorts of good-natured trouble but could be counted on. she knows without knowing just how fitting that description is for him. after nearly two decades of having hundreds of other minds inside her own, she's gotten pretty good at reading people and judging their character. she doesn't need to have him in her head to know he's a good guy at heart.
that trickle of blood is unnoticed until he's holding her chin, his touch careful despite (or because of) the metal of his hand. it's both strange and comfortingly familiar for him to have a metal arm that seems to function just like the real thing. she's reminded bittersweetly of Piotr, of their days back at the mansion and all the ones that had followed. the bitterness outways the sweet, though, so the memory is brushed aside in favor of concentrating on the man before her. ]
It's okay, sugar. I appreciate you doing this at all. Helping me when you don't have to. I can deal with a little mess in exchange for that.
[ she could deal with a whole lot of mess in exchange. they're both lucky that he'd shown up when he did and she hadn't been injured further, because then she'd either be dead or he'd have had a heck of a lot more patching up to do. which, while it's clear that he's done this before, probably many times on himself, she'd have hated to be even more of an inconvenience. ]
About that. [ there's a pause as he frees the alcohol swab and moves back in to clean up the smear. ] Can't really take credit for that, much as I want to. Technically, I wasn't even supposed to show my face, so.
[ he offers a sheepish smile. ] Guess I fucked that up, huh?
Wanda's the one that pieced together your movements though. I'm just the errand boy.
[ bucky shrugs, tucking the wipe back into its packaging after he's done wiping up the smear of blood. then he starts cleaning up the rest, collecting what needs to be tossed in one pile and replacing items that can still be used back into the emergency kit. ]
[ Wanda. They'd been tracking her movements? She frowns as he works, frantically turning over in her mind all that could mean. She'd thought she was being careful. If they'd been able to find her, then who else... ]
Then what were you sent to do?
[ She doesn't hide her wariness, a hint of fear in her expression for the first time since he'd shown up to save her. Turns out, he wasn't supposed to do that part. ]
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Bucky.
[ it's all he offers back before he's focused in again on carefully taping the gash. it's not really a difficult process, but there's always that annoyance of misplacing the strip the first time and the stickiness growing weaker when you have to replace it, so it's still best to do it right the first time and not have to worry about it later. that and tearing the sticker away could just agitate the wound further anyway, which does nothing to help with the healing, so. really, it's just the practical thing to do.
blood seeps as he tapes, which is inevitable, and though it mostly stays controlled, a bead forms just as he finishes the last, and it trickles down the side of her face. ]
Shit-- [ he quickly cups the edge of her chin to keep it staining her clothes as he uses his right hand to dig for a square of gauze. ] Sorry. Probably should have. Erm. I'm not so used to patching up others. And not making a mess.
[ it's vaguely put, but he seems to imply that he's hardly this clean about it when it comes to patching himself.
he uses the gauze to carefully soak up the drop, though the trail has already mostly dried and his attempt to clean it up only smears it and makes it worse. a faint knit forms between his brows, a flash of a frown directed at himself as he grabs another disinfectant wipe to rip open. ]
no subject
that trickle of blood is unnoticed until he's holding her chin, his touch careful despite (or because of) the metal of his hand. it's both strange and comfortingly familiar for him to have a metal arm that seems to function just like the real thing. she's reminded bittersweetly of Piotr, of their days back at the mansion and all the ones that had followed. the bitterness outways the sweet, though, so the memory is brushed aside in favor of concentrating on the man before her. ]
It's okay, sugar. I appreciate you doing this at all. Helping me when you don't have to. I can deal with a little mess in exchange for that.
[ she could deal with a whole lot of mess in exchange. they're both lucky that he'd shown up when he did and she hadn't been injured further, because then she'd either be dead or he'd have had a heck of a lot more patching up to do. which, while it's clear that he's done this before, probably many times on himself, she'd have hated to be even more of an inconvenience. ]
no subject
[ he offers a sheepish smile. ] Guess I fucked that up, huh?
Wanda's the one that pieced together your movements though. I'm just the errand boy.
[ bucky shrugs, tucking the wipe back into its packaging after he's done wiping up the smear of blood. then he starts cleaning up the rest, collecting what needs to be tossed in one pile and replacing items that can still be used back into the emergency kit. ]
no subject
Then what were you sent to do?
[ She doesn't hide her wariness, a hint of fear in her expression for the first time since he'd shown up to save her. Turns out, he wasn't supposed to do that part. ]