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Jack Frost was a bit of an odd duck, but everyone agreed he was punctual to a fault. So it was beyond odd when he simply didn't show up for an evening shift, which Pepper discovered when she arrived for her usual early morning start to the day.
The first clue of a problem came when she found blood smeared against Jack's front door. The second, when the door was revealed to be unlocked, allowing her access.
It doesn't take her too many paces into the room to realize that Jack is probably in the bathroom, where water's running in the shower— and that the grunting wheeze is definitely not the sound a healthy human makes.
*
The moment Pepper heard that he didn't show up, well, she began the quiet panic. While maybe he was just sick, he had been so loyal. So on the right track. Was he stuck in his head? Drunk? Worse? So, Pepper made very quick excuses and, not even bothering to put an away note at her desk, dashed out of her sitting area to head to his small apartment.
The blood on the door makes her stomach drop, knocking quickly, "Jack?!?" She calls into the door, only to find it unlocked. That just increases the panic. She runs into the apartment on her high heels, following the line of blood and then the sound of the shower and that wheezing. "Jack!" She calls, dashing around the corner to the bathroom. She doesn't even bother knocking now.
Her stomach drops into her shows as she sees him, coming to her knees almost immediately next to him, "My god, Jack…w-what…What happened? We need to get you to a hospital, now… You should have called me." Not caring about her dress, stockings or anything, probably she's already kneeling in some of his blood, her fingertips hover across his chest, not daring to touch the wounds but instinctively wanting to put pressure on them.
*
"Mugger," Jack rasps, shaking his head. He has a rag pressed against his chest, but each rasping breath leaves him shuddering in pain and frothy red bubbles edging out the soaked cloth. "Stabbed me." A straight lie, but the blood's a convincing story.
"Need… surgical kit," he wheezes, pointing at a bag under the sink. "Needles and thread… and syringes."
*
While Pepper might have more questions later, this isn't the time to push it, not with that foaming blood on his side and the pain in his eyes. At least he's talking, so that's enough to cut through the panicky Pepper into work and competent Pepper. She takes a breath, looking at the soaked cloth and then abruptly standing up again. She rolls up the sleeves of her dress and goes straight to the sink, running the water hot as she can before starting to scrub her own hands.
"…You really should go to the hospital, but if you refuse, you sure as hell aren't stitching yourself up." What she always this competent in EVERYTHING? She washes her hands like a nurse, getting under fingernails and in cuticles before drying them off with tissues, not a previously used towel. She then grabs for the surgical kit beneath the sink, opening it on the closed toilet lid so she can see what she has to work with. "You handled those muggers with me pretty well… What happened this time?" She's mainly trying to keep him talking.
*
"Got blindsided," Jack rasps. He grabs a syringe and removes the cap, then without any preface slams the needle into his upper chest. There's a hiss and a *pop* and suddenly, there's much less blood coming from the wound in his side.
He groans and sags back as the air flows into his system properly again, passing out— mercifully— so Pepper can take some time to patch the heaving wound in his side.
*
"Jack-what-no!" Pepper practically yelps as she watches him stab himself with that needle, her eyes going wide. While she understands the theory behind most of this and, in general, has steady hands, it was still a bit intense seeing it in person. But then he's done it and he's passing out. Pepper quickly sinks back down to her knees next to him, reaching for his throat, her careful fingers checking his pulse there. She's just trying to be certain it's steady enough that he's not bottoming out on her before she can stitch him up. It's a moment of indecision, considering if she should get him to the hospital, when she settles on the fact that if he wanted to be there he would be. So, she gets to work.
Her stitches are neat and steady, carefully joining flesh and muscle. She's actually pretty damn good for someone who has no business stitching up wounds at all. She first gets the awful wound on his side, then to some of the smaller ones, ever so careful to clean everything as she goes. It's at least 45 minutes by the time she's done, she having cut the shower ages ago as the hot water died and she couldn't afford for him to go in shock in cold water. Now she remains kneeling there, staring at his pale frame, a deep line of worry across her eyes. ".. Jack…what did you get yourself into…"
*
Pepper is strong, but Jack weighs /way/ more than he should for a man his size— there's not much she can do but put him under a blanket and pillow and make him comfortable as possible in the shower.
Only a few hours later, Bucky snorts and sits up rather quickly, looking around the area with a blinking confusion that resolves itself into narrow pain and tension. He probes his stitching under his ribs, and looks surprised to see Pepper patched it rather well. A few other incidental wounds were properly corrected and bandaged as well, though it looks rather like he lost a fight with a Cuisinart.
Or a tiny black-haired ball of claws and murder.
He shucks off his pants, tossing them into a muddled mess in the shower along with the rest of their ruined clothes, and wipes himself down with a hot washcloth to get the blood off of him.
He moves to the bathroom entrance and finds Pepper, clearly exhausted by the ordeal and worry, curled on his bed. A smile tugs the corner of his mnouth and limping just a little, he moves to sit next to her on the bed, watching her sleep for a long moment. Finally, he strokes her bare shoulder.
"Pepper," he murmurs, his voice very quiet.
*
While she spent the first hour or so after his stitching just pacing, listening to his breathing, the night was long, the panic great, and all adrenaline has now left her body. She sat down on the bed just intending to gather her thoughts, but her body had other ideas. She's got all the blood off her hands and skin, but there's still some marks on her dress. She's curled up around the pillow that smells like him, having grabbed it in her sleep. Her red hair currently spilled everywhere, still half in its pins.
It doesn't take much to wake her, still some part of the back of her brain in crisis mode, so the whisper of her name and the touch of his hand jerks her pale eyes open abruptly. She drags a fast almost gasp of a breath in, gaze snapping up to him. "Jack… You…You shouldn't be up…God, I couldn't get you out of the tub…" She sits up as fast as she woke which, well, proves to not be the best idea as the room wavers dizzily.
*
Jack's arm tensions just a little, forming a bar that prevents Pepper from rising as surely as a seatbelt. He smiles down at her a bit wider, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he rasps. "I heal quickly." Indeed, he's looking /really/ good for someone who surely lost a few pints of blood today, and he leans down to kiss the corner of Pepper's mouth gently.
"Thank you. You did a good job sewing me up," he rasps. "I've seen field medics do a worse job," he says, that smile tugging at his eyes. "I hope you were not too frightened."
*
He can easily keep her down. She's tired and while she seems a super woman in most everything, strength is NOT one of those areas. So, with him keeping her there, she remains half nestled around his pillow, tired eyes looking him up and down as she tries to see just how bad off he still is.
"You really shouldn't be up and about, either… You need rest. Or a hospital. Fluids and an IV would do you well… but I'm guessing if you we willing to go, you'd have been there and not here." She murmurs softly, the worry still clear in her husky-with-sleep voice. She does move one hand to wrap her fingertips around his wrist, at least reaching to see how thready his pulse still is. "…and…I've done some other patching up in my time…"
*
Jack's heart is loud and strong— healthy as a horse, thumping against her fingertips. "Hospitals have questions," Jack rasps. "I don't want to deal with cops, or doctors. Too many arguments and debates, and the bill is too high. Easy enough to patch, if you know what you're doing."
He smiles down at her. "Not the first time I've needed patching," he reminds her, swinging his bionic left arm absently.
He leans down and kisses Pepper's lips with gentle and restrained affection. "You came all the way down here to check on me. Thank you," he says, sincerely and without qualification.
*
"…Of… of course, Jack. When you didn't show up for work, I was worried sick. I… I knew something was wrong. I couldn't just let it be. I care about you too damn much." Pepper admits quietly, leaning up into that kiss against her lips, a bit more pressure behind the touch of her mouth, as if trying to reassure herself he was alive and well. The pound of his pulse against her fingertips does seem to relax her a bit more also. "You…you do recover fast. I… guess that's lucky. Still, god, Jack, you scared me." She admits gently, her small hand still hanging on tight to his wrist.
*
"I'm sorry," Jack promises Pepper, kissing her again and slowly leaning atop her— not quite /on/ her, as that'd probably crush the slender redhead. But comfortably cozying up against the lissome lady on his bed.
"I will try not to get stabbed anymore," he says, stroking her cheek with his fingertips and kissing her again. "I owe you. For this," he says, touching his ribs. "Not a lot of people would do that for me," he admits, shaking his head.
*
The lean of his body, not overly warm but also not ice cold so that touch alone was reassuring, it makes her smile. She stretches out under him, so they are half pressed together as she returns that second kiss. ALmost seductive. Almost. But she certainly wasn't going to drag a newly stabbed man to a night in the sack.
"…Don't be sorry, just… don't come home bleeding any more. Please. You're going to give me a heart attack. What… what if I hadn't checked on you? God, Jack…I… I don't even want to think." If she waited another hour, he could have been dead. She shivers a bit at the thought, her arm stretching up to wrap closer around him. SHe tries to get him to settle down with her, stretched out on the bed. "I'd do anything for you, Jack… you're an important part of my life. I lo… care about you. Deeply." That other word, though tempting, might also terrify him, so she just barely catches herself.
*
Jack leans onto the bed, then lays down next to Pepper and pulls her towards him, rolling onto his back so she can nestle against or atop him as she likes. "I care about you too, Pepper," he says in that gravelly, atonal rasp. If he caught her slip, it's hard to tell— or if he's politely ignoring it. Still, there's that twinkle in his eyes that suggests at the smile that doesn't touch his face.
"I would do anything for you, too," he says, eyes flickering once, just a touch. He reaches up and strokes Pepper's cheek with his human hand, steel fingertips resting quiesciently against the sheets near her thigh.
*
Still in her dress and stockings, Pepper doesn't even care right now. At least her heels were abandoned somewhere on the other side of the bed. She happily lets herself be pulled into his chest, even if she's ever so careful of where she stitched him up, not putting any pressure or weight around that area. She leans against the opposite side of his chest instead, her hand draping across his hip, well below the injury. But she keeps her cheek against his shoulder, nestled in almost against his heart, the quiet, steady beat far more reassuring that the injuries weren't near as awful as they looked.
"…The don't get stabbed again and I think we'll be even." She teases him lightly, taking some of the almost too weighty pressure off their previous words. Pepper wasn't exactly a dating and marriage kind of girl, she was far more career oriented. So all of this was… New. And scary for it.
*
"Deal," Jack assures Pepper, kissing her again— and quite thoroughly. He caresses her back with his human hand, exploring dimples under the crinkling material of her fine attire.
"Pepper, are… are you happy, with me?" he asks. There's something a bit tentative in his tone, slow and reticent— a topic he's loathe to address, but a core of decency in him suggests he must speak his mind. "You and I are… what are we?" he rasps, looking at the top of her head. "I don't know how to explain it to people. Or if I should. I don't want to embarass you."
*
Those words are enough to make her blink, pulling he rhead up off his chest even as she was enjoyng the relaxing there and the careful brush of his fingertips was almost enough to relax her back to sleep. But that question is too important to be drowsed through. So, Pepper sits up straighter, looking down into his eyes, clear concern in her pale features and surprise. "Of…Of course I'm happy, Jack! I wouldn't be here if… if I wasn't. I'm your girlfriend. You can tell people. I tell people. Hell, I told my boss. I… what brought this up?"
*
"Oh. Okay." Jack smiles up at Pepper. A small, almost ghostlike smile, but it's fairly a delighted grin from the stoic fellow. Pepper alone might see the difference. "I just wanted to be sure."
He settles back into the pillows, his human fingers stroking her wrist. His left hand clicks and then brushes cautiously against her shoulder— giving Pepper a moment to adjust herself to the difference in texture and pressure from the unfamiliar limb, which is (thankfully) at least a bit on the warm side, if still cool to the touch.
*
For as strange as the limb may be to some, Pepper has accepted it as a part of him as much as she's accepted the rest. She's never shown fear or hestation, and the brush of those slightly cooler fingertips against her back is clearly enjoyed just as much as when his flesh hand touches her. It makes her smile, her shoulders rolling and settling into that contact. She's still tense, but not in the actually worried way, just in the way that she's constantly carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"Of course, Jack… I'm proud to be with you. And, hell… I'd be jealous if you found another lady, so I think that means I'm definitely your girlfriend, unless you would rather… otherwise?" She asks that almost nervously.
*
"I think that's what it means," Jack agrees, in that low, gravelly voice. "I think…" He considers. "Yeah. I'd be upset if you found another fellah. So… I guess that makes me your boyfriend."
He leans back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. "I haven't had someone call me boyfriend in a long time," he says, pensively. "I… can't remember the last time," he says, his voice a bit distant. "Maybe never, I guess."?
*
"…Their loss. My gain, then. And I'm not going anywhere, so you better not either." Pepper's arm around his hip tightens a bit more, letting herself be gathered up against him, her leg stretching out so her calf rest between his knees. She wraps herself completely against him, or as completely as she can, drowning in his warmth and scent. But he can feel her body going slowly slack again too, falling asleep in her clothes against him. She trusts him, clearly, through and through.
*