if you can hold on, hold on

[onlyforthedream]

This isn't a scene I ever wanted to witness.

The run to the Compound was brutal, and Tony was on his way out to get Xavier when I was on my way in. At some point, I took the Shield off my back and set it on an unoccupied bed.

There are doctors moving deftly from the table Bucky's stretched out on to the sink, or trays of gauze and utensils and back again. I didn't let anyone get near the arm until Dr. McCoy was there. I know the kind of technology he's worked with. He removed it, and I felt something wrench in my gut. I was vaguely aware of someone at my elbow speaking with concern before I shrugged them off and went around to watch them peel away the Winter Soldier's uniform. It would take a soldering iron to cut through it. He's covered in superficial wounds- severe bruising, mostly, damage to his ribs. With the arm gone, they manage all right.

Oh, God, Bucky.

I beg off questions, agree to let McCoy take care of the knife wound in my side after another reprimand I barely register. I'm numb to it, whatever he's doing. I don't bring up the gash on my leg. There's enough blood and dirt that I can't imagine anyone noticing for a while, anyway.

"...you'll want to restrain him," I say, as the thought occurs, though the words are hard to get out. I catch Rory frowning in my peripheral vision, bagging the ruined and blood soaked t-shirt I'd been wearing before depositing it in the trash.

"Just- until-"

There's a sound in the hallway of heavy metal on flooring and I'm up, off the spare bed, ignoring Dr. McCoy's curse of frustration.

"Professor?"

Comments

[leftwithmybones]

"Paint thinner," is what McCoy has to say about that, as he reaches out and finds drugs in order to achieve what Charles is explaining to Steve, trying not to think about what would happen if this were him and Jim, if Jim or any of his closest friends were ever like this. "Once it gets delivered..." Which is where McCoy needs Stark to help, "the light charge is just to try and reboot the brain, restore factory settings. If he's out cold, he shouldn't even feel it."

[onlyforthedream]

"And do we know what the hell factory settings will be?" I ask.

"What about his memory? How much is this going undo?"

[thebettermen]

"Every procedure carries risks," says Charles, stepping directly into Steve's line of vision, though he's mindful to leave the man some space to breathe. He needs it right about now, looking nearly as worse for wear as Barnes himself. While Charles wouldn't claim to know the Captain particularly well, they've been acquainted long enough for him to gather that this loss of control is exceptionally rare. This isn't a man who falls apart, and yet he's doing just that; in the end, they've found their trigger, after all, it's just for the wrong person.

Charles will need to tread carefully lest they end up needing to sedate another soldier.

"But theoretically, nothing. Given its location, the conditioning poses the greatest threat to his short-term memory, so if he loses anything, it'll only be a few hours. It's just as likely he'll remember it all. We're targeting what's forcing him to forget, not the memories themselves. He should wake up normal."

[notawastedlife]

"Or as normal as any of us gets," Tony reflected, crossing to one of the tables; the island didn't really go for normal. He wasn't the place's biggest fan, by far, but he'd also never really been a fan of baseline normal as it was generally understood.

He took in Cap's state as he reached the table. He seemed... rattled. He almost felt like he liked the guy a little more for it. There was stuff other than saintly paragon-ness going on in that head, then.

"How light is light?" he said, regarding the tools at his disposal and then starting to grab pieces and patch them together, using the suit's HUD to keep it all finetuned. This was the brain they were dealing with. "Tell you what, I'll see about making it variable in case you need to refine it."

[leftwithmybones]

"Variable, then I can reuse it," McCoy grunts, occupied with what he's assembling. He's keeping Rogue's lessons in mind, given that he'd needed to work with something similar when it came to various personalities built on top of one another. He bends down over the table, eyeing what he's got left to do. "Have we got five minutes? I need five more minutes and, you know," he says, a bit flippantly in Tony's direction, "however long he needs."

[onlyforthedream]

"'Refine it'," I repeat and then the words are ripping out me, straining against my throat.

"In case the first time doesn't work? How many tries will this take? How many tries can he take? Tell me this isn't going to be a gamble, nothing but trial and error! He may be resilient but he's not goddamn indestructible!"

It's not the noise that alerts me to the fact I've slammed my fist into medical table, with medical instruments on it, or even the sensation of a knuckle or two splitting open. It's the fact that several people are staring. I'm aware of it, but I just don't care.

[leftwithmybones]

McCoy's close to hauling Steve to his side under the guise of patching up the knuckles, but he's too busy to actually grab at him. Instead, he casts a wary look upwards as he injects a tracking isotope into the formula, his other hand going for the sedatives. "One more like that and I'm sedating you," he warns mildly. "This might not be my operating room yet, but I don't tolerate that kind of behavior in front of a patient," he snaps, deathly calm, but pointedly looking at Steve.

[notawastedlife]

"Even if the patient... isn't aware-" Tony said, but that wasn't really the point. Rogers wasn't going to turn into a giant green rage monster -- kind of a pity -- but he wasn't going to make it easy for the doctors to work.

"Maybe grab some air? We'll grab some air, I'm done here."

He held up what he'd been working on.

[onlyforthedream]

"Are you going to try to remove me, doctor?" I ask, gaze hard on McCoy.

[notawastedlife]

"Not him. Me," Tony said, moving to put himself between Rogers and the doctors. This was moving from charming loss of control to actual concern quite rapidly, this probably wasn't helping anything. "Take a walk. Let the medical professionals do their job."

[onlyforthedream]

I don't move an inch, a muscle in my jaw jumping as I grind my molars together.

"I swear to God, Stark-"

[thebettermen]

"Enough," says Charles, striding towards the pair of them before a proper brawl breaks out. This situation has already gotten wildly out of hand without more violence, and they only have so many tables. Staring up at the Captain, keenly aware of their difference in size, he stays his ground.

"Steve, I give you my word that we will take every precaution to save your friend, but you cannot expect us to do our best work with you antagonizing us every step of the way. For his sake, I'm asking you, please..." Despite his better judgment, Charles reaches out for the man's arm. "Leave peacefully."

[onlyforthedream]

He's right, of course. I'm not making anything better. I'm not helping.

And if you're not a help, you're a hindrance.

My gaze drops, flickers. For the first time in a while, I focus on my breathing, make myself calm down. With barely a nod I turn, and start for the door.

[leftwithmybones]

McCoy lets out the breath that he'd been holding in, braced for some kind of catastrophe. He shoots Charles a relieved, gracious look and holds up the vial that's ready to be delivered. "Well, if anything's going to do it, this is as close as it's getting," he says, taking a look at the device Stark's gussied up for him. "Everyone ready?"

[notawastedlife]

"You got this? You got this," Tony said, looking between McCoy and Xavier, pulling the helmet back off. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't... break anything, back in a moment if we have to recalibrate."

[onlyforthedream]

I'm halfway out the door when I sense someone following me and stop short, turn back to find Iron Man at my heels, and frown. Not angrily.

"Where are you going?"

[notawastedlife]

"Stopping you from breaking your hand," Tony said, entirely pleasantly. "Or... breaking whatever you're about to punch, I couldn't say which it'll be. They have the gadget, they don't need me right now."

[onlyforthedream]

We may not see eye to eye, we may never like each other, but that doesn't mean I don't know the man's a genius. God knows what the Soviets pulled. Having someone in the room who can improvise like Tony can, when he's aware of the fact that his expertise is not necessarily the most valuable for the situation- I'm not an idiot, and I'm not spiteful. He needs to be here.

"No," I say firmly, quietly. "There's no need. I want you in there."

[notawastedlife]

Tony considered this. He seemed calmer, and really, Tony didn't know what he would have done. He wasn't really the psych guy, and the psych guy was kind of occupied.

"...okay," he said. It wasn't an order, clearly, but a request. And having been in something like that chair, with Pepper, he would have made it of whoever he'd thought should be in there. Whatever increased the chances. "Don't punch anything you can't replace. I'm going to be... in there."

[onlyforthedream]

It's not a conscious decision, reaching out to catch his arm, the weight and feel of the gauntlet familiar for all that I haven't had much contact, really, with this suit.

"Please," I say quietly. He knows I'm asking, but now I've actually asked.

"Just... do what you can."