#chuck au

With barely any breakfast due to your stomach being tied in tight knots, the fear reached its peak as the reality once again set in – when you and Steve were putting on bulletproof vests. Bulletproof vests. Because someone was probably going to shoot at you.

Because someone wanted you dead.

Steve met your eyes, gracing you with a nervous and yet reassuring smile, tugging loose strands of hair behind your ear, dropping a kiss to your temple.

“Second thoughts?” he asked lowly, his genuine worry making you smile as well, more so as you realized that such phrase had more than one meaning.

One corner of your lips quirked higher despite your nerves and you wiggled fingers of your left hand for him to see.

“About this? Never, Professor Rogers.”

“Get a room,” Bucky grumbled silently at your side, brining you each one earpiece. Steve glared at him, causing him to raise his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I know you’re pissed and I get it. But I also promise you – all of these people will do everything to keep you guys safe and so will I. I’ll be with Nat at the surveillance.”

The only response Bucky got from Steve was silence as he slipped on a blue shirt Chuck had brought him earlier.

Your gaze flickered between the two friends and you swallowed the sigh threatening to escape you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered with a tense smile, earning one in return before Bucky handed you the equipment, gaze glued to the floor.

You felt kinda sorry for him being at the receiving end of Steve’s silent treatment, but frankly… you couldn’t entirely blame Steve for being stubborn about it. His best friend had been basically lying to him for god knew how long and it wasn’t exactly about something inconsequential.

Then again, Bucky probably hadn’t had a choice. And be as it might, he was helping you now, trying his best. The least he deserved was a thank you and so a thank you he got from you – but not Steve.

When the silence continued, Bucky retreated with a sigh, letting you to shove the earpiece in. It was a funny feeling – almost as if you were just wearing earbuds, about to chill with some music.

Chilling it was, alright, but in a completely different way.

“You’re not gonna give me shit for being a jerk to him?” Steve questioned, seemingly torn between genuinely confused and pleased.

Titling your head to side, you studied his expression, taken aback that he found it so surprising.

“Well, for one, this is between the two of you. For two, I think you’re entitled. Kinda,” you emphasized, causing him to sigh as he saw that you decided to make one argument for Bucky. “He probably couldn’t tell you anything… but I see that that doesn’t make it any better. So no, Steve, I really won’t give you shit for having feelings.”

One corner of Steve’s lip rose at the last note, eyes softening.

“Thank you.”

“Plus, you two will figure it out later. We kinda have our hands full now anyway.”

You could see his Adam’s apple bobbing, but his lopsided smile only grew.

“That’s true. We have rings to pick.”

You felt your eyes widening, your heart skipping a beat, startled and excited.

Did you make it up or didn’t he really just say that? Picking…rings? As in your real wedding bands?

Searching his gaze, seeing the warmth of his irises having almost swallowed the anxiety in them, you knew you didn’t imagine it. He was serious.

“Steve…”

“Hey. Might as well really look since we’re at it,” Steve said as if it was nothing. But the twinkle in his eye gave away the thrill the idea gave him.

It made your heart swell in your chest and your core throb, a ghost of the memory of him taking you apart shortly after you said yes, adamant about your engagement ring being on display, a shining promise of you being officially his. He revelled in it, knowing your heart and soul belonged to him and frankly… you did too, because you had no doubt it went both ways.

“Might as well really look,” you echoed quietly.

And for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget that as real as you’d try to make this, it was all a charade to lure in a dangerous gunman who wished to put a bullet between your eyes.

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You had an out of body experience, looking at the rings, because somehow your upcoming marriage suddenly felt hundred times more real. As surreal as it might seem checking out the window display while there was an occasional conversation in your earpiece, you… marvelled at the beautiful jewellery that was meant to say the world you loved someone enough to want to seal the deal. And that the someone felt the same.

There was a pair of rings that caught your eye almost instantly; the one for a man had triangular a cut at the top, missing a piece of metal; the one for a woman fit into it perfectly, lined with small stones. You loved the sentiment behind it right away, because the rings fit into each other and you felt that it was something you and Steve could easily relate to.

You were also delighted that they weren’t made the other way around, because that would be just crude.

Then again, you didn’t think they would look good on a hand. When you told that to Steve, he seemed content with your evaluation, appreciating your thoughts with a sweet kiss on your lips that would have melted you on spot unless Natasha had chosen the moment to thank you for really selling the show and thanked you for great photos.

With a sigh, you retreated, wistfully looking at the display again.

“Hey. We said we would actually look – if you want, that is. What else caught your eye?” Steve asked gently, hand on your hip, just under the line of the vest hidden under your blouse so you could feel his touch without being reminded of the true reason you were here.

“I want,” you whispered shyly. Steve simply smiled back and beckoned with his chin towards the glass. They were all so pretty… but that was what you thought. “Which one do you like?”

“Whichever ends up on your hand, to be honest.”

You chuckled at Steve’s quick answer, shaking your head. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who had the danger only in the back of their mind; to be fair, you still had plenty of time to worry later, with Natasha only just having posted the picture of you.

No need to have a mental breakdown just yet.

Less so when there were wedding bands in front of you. In various colours, all shiny and pretty, glimmering in the professional lighting, polished to perfection-

Your breath hitched when your gaze skimmed over them and you suddenly had to look back and linger, your heart stuttering in awe. Your lips parted as you stared at the silver bands, mesmerized. That was it.

The more massive one had a subtle carving, once again triangular, just like the thinner one – except that one had a stone embedded in the socket, protruding a bit above the line, resulting in the ring resembling a tiny tiara. The design was not too complicated and yet elegant; and not only that the one for the man wasn’t entirely plain either, but it also noticeably belonged with the one for a woman.

You were sold. If you didn’t put this ring on, you might as well never marry at all.

…alright, that was overstatement, but they were perfect and you were in love.

“Which ones?” Steve asked, a knowing smile in his voice laced with unmistakable fondness.

Biting down on your lip, you subtly pointed at the pair, describing the rings just so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings.

The silence that followed lasted a little too long for your comfort, but when Steve spoke up, his voice was soft and content.

“I like them. Really like them. Not extravagant, not completely plain. You have a good eye, sweetheart.”

“Well, I did choose you,” you sing-sang with a grin, delighted that he agreed with your taste.

“And you call me cheesy,” he hummed with a smile, carefully touching his earpiece. “We’re gonna go in if that’s okay?”

Your eyes went wide with shock at the suggestion, causing him to frown.

“What, you don’t want them?”

“I do!” you blurted out without thinking, slapping your hand over your mouth right after at the specific and iconic sentence. Ha! Save that for later, genius!

Steve chuckled as Natasha confirmed that you could indeed walk in to talk to the broker.

This time, you didn’t mind her voice in your ear; and ten minutes later, you were leaving the shop, knowing your wedding bands were safely booked just for you. You could cry, partly because of their price. But hey, you only got married once, right? Hopefully. And it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would.

Beautiful rings for an acceptable price. Yeah, that had you and Steve written all over it.

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Wandering the mall, occasionally stopping by a window to check out the goods to kill time, you could feel the euphoria slowly melting away, gradually replaced by fear. You had picked rings, yeah, but that was not the goal today. The goal was somewhat much darker; to rid you off a creepy man trying to shoot you. You had to survive today to get married.  

When you felt a sudden tag at your hand, pulling you aside unyieldingly and causing you to practically stumble into a shop, a startled silent cry left on your lips, pulse skyrocketing.

Until you realized that it was still just Steve who had been holding your hand the whole time; and that you were in a flower shop, with your fiancé wearing a mischievous grin on his lips.

“What are you-“  

“Dammit Rogers!” Casey cursed into your ear, making you nearly jump out of your skin, again.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah demanded, sounding rather calm, probably keeping up appearances as she was momentarily in a frozen yogurt shop posing as a server.

“Rogers is pulling prior unannounced moves,” Casey complained gruffly. At that, Steve had enough decency to grimace, as if only realizing his mistake now when he heard about it.

However, since you were already in, he scanned the shop, swiftly finding the stands with roses, leading you there and politely asking for one.

“It would be better not to do that,” Sarah sighed to the earpiece discontentedly, sounding more annoyed than angry. Definitely less angry than Casey. “What happened?”

“He pulled her into a flower shop. Charmer,” Bucky explained, having his eyes on god knew how many surveillance cameras, clearly being able to see your every move along with Natasha. “What did he get ya’?”

Not every move then.

“Uhm, a single red rose,” you mumbled to the comm, face burning, your rapidly beating heart full of panic now swelling with affection for your man.

Steve handed you the flower he paid for, dropping a kiss to your lips while subtly touching his earpiece.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I won’t do anything like that again. I want us to be safe.”

Short silence followed his apology and promise, only for Sarah to break it; when she did, she sounded as if was barely stifling a smile.

“Well. Now you know not to do any more unexpected moves. But I’d let this one slide, because there’s no way he’s already here… and it was pretty sweet.”

“Pretty sweet? You kidding? If she doesn’t marry that guy, I will!” Chuck cried out lowly, gushing over Steve’s action that was as surprising to you as heart-warming.

You smiled into Steve neck as he pulled to you to his side, following him back to the central corridor.

“Way to make it awkward, Chuckyboy,” Casey noted, a hint of a smile creeping into his voice too.

You were glad to hear Casey melt a bit… and honestly? You couldn’t blame Chuck; Steve had it all, alright. Was he perfect? No, just really close to it. And he was yours.

“Sorry, Chuck, he’s mine.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that…”

“You’re all quite chatty,” Natasha cut in, slightly irked. “We get it, Rogers passed Romance 101 with flying colours, but now we need to focus and keep the channel free.”

And focus you did.

Well, mostly the others. You just grew anxious again walking the mall for another thirty minutes before you were told it was time to settle in the food area and order something as to not look suspicious.

You were seated in a strategic position between Sarah and her frozen yogurt shop and Chuck pretending to repairing a Bubble Tea machine in a nearby booth, while Casey, who was dressed a cleaning crew guy moving with his stand, was close to you at all times. The last agent blending with the crowd as a random customer you didn’t know, since he clearly didn’t feel the need to introduce himself. You just hoped he was a capable one.

And that was all you could do – hope that it would all end well. Having asked for water for you rose, toying with it in your fingers in the meantime, you felt that it just might be okay.

Because Steve was there with you.

Not missing the soft smile playing on his lips as he observed you, you had an astonishing epiphany about the rings and the rose.

They were both great declarations of love beyond what met the eye.

Steve liked a plan; spontaneity in a course of a mission where someone was trying to kill you was as sweet as out-of-character for him, right next to the numerous displays of affection in front of damn spies; or in front of strangers for that matter. Neither of that was something he’d welcome, especially in a situation like this.

But you certainly did.

It finally dawned to you that it was all for your benefit. It was all him trying hard to keep you out of the panic mode he had witnessed when the memory of the first shooting overwhelmed you. Hell, his presence to begin with – he had decided to come with you after you had a brief panic attack.

You didn’t think you could fall deeper into the pit of being hopelessly in love with him, but here you were, again, your heart filled to the brim with affection, overflowing even.

You leaned closer to him, whispering as low as you could, because you wanted this thank you to be his alone.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he hummed casually, eyeing the rose – and you knew that he wasn’t hearing what you were saying.

Looking him straight in the eye, you mustered all emotion you could and tried to tell him again. Because this was important. He had to know how much you appreciated what he was doing.

“No, Steve… thank you.”

This time, you could tell by the blush that creeped up his neck and cheeks, the lowered gaze and his shoulders slumping, that you succeeded and he understood that you saw right through him.

“Anything for you, babygirl,” he whispered for your ear only. “Anything for you.”

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Sitting in a café & bar in an open space in a mall would never feel the same; and it had never felt like this before either.

The wait was… long. Maybe it was the fact that you felt the need to check the time every other minute. Maybe it was the fact that when you came from a bathroom break (where you were followed to by Sarah, because what if), nothing changed. Maybe it was because you really were sitting there for two hours while nothing was happening. Not that you wanted to complain about the lack of violence, but seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days.

But hey; you were still there not having to do anything. Meanwhile, everyone else had to stay sharp no matter how bored they surely had to be, scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger; or in Bucky’s and Natasha’s case, scanning the monitors.

You should be grateful, but God, did you wish you could do something too. This was killing you, pun not intended. You were growing more antsy by the minute, aware you were jumping at the slightest of sounds, not even Steve’s hand drawing comforting circles on the back of your hand and thigh helping.

“I have eyes on Batroc. He’s heading Sarah’s way, now passing the Pizza Hut,” Natasha announced through the comms, causing your heart to skip a startled beat, hand curling into a fist so tight you were about to have bloody crescents in your palm.

“Careful, Casey, that guy’s a martial art expert,” Bucky warned silently, an information you wanted slap him for.

Because that was just what you needed to hear right now, Jesus.

They had told you not to look the direction where they would point out that the suspects were; but right now, it was really hard to resist. Steve brought your hand to his lips to drop a little kiss there, an attempt at comfort despite the fact that he himself was clearly battling his own anxiety, shoulders and jaw tense, tendons on his forearms dancing.

You closed your eyes, fighting a violent tremble when no action came after Bucky’s warning.

When you heard the commotion followed by a heavy thud and a few people crying out in distress, you couldn’t but snap your head the direction. All you saw was Casey, his cap having been knocked down, revealing a smirk on his face.

“Never met a martial art expert who could fight off 200 kilovolts,” he hummed to the comms cheekily, causing a nervous chuckle escape your lips at the joke.

He disappeared from your view when he kneeled, likely cuffing the potential attacker.

Just like that, they apprehended Batroc, the man who was after you. Was it that easy? Did that mean-

“Suspect, male, 6 feet 2 in a blue cap and grey hoodie near the Italian rest--- yep, he saw it all, making a run for it!” Bucky blurted out, not giving any of you a chance to relax.

Casey had been right then – Batroc wasn’t working alone. Fuck.

A string of curses from various people sounded from your far left, your gaze automatically following. The agent whose name you never caught was pushing his way through the thin crowd, shoving everyone from his way-

-but so must have the runner, because several feet over, someone yelled as a menu stand got knocked over with a clank, making people jump back to avoid it, getting in the agent’s path.  

“Perez, dammit, move your feet!” Natasha hissed angrily, sounding a lot like a disappointed boss.

Which she probably was and you didn’t blame her, having the urge to call out the same, as your heart seized in your ribcage.

What if the other guy escaped? What if he told some of his murderous friends? What if this would never end? What if there still would be-

A squeeze to your hand had you redirect your attention and stop your train of thought. Steve’s face was full of concern, intense eyes staring straight into your soul, causing you to gulp.

“You’re fine,” he whispered, his gaze flickering behind your back at something you obviously couldn’t see. “They’ve got this.”

Since when did he believe in Bucky and company so much? In Perez, who was such a jerk that he couldn’t even introduce himself, let alone run apparently—yeah, okay, you were being a bitch, but you really didn’t care-

“What if they don’t?”

Your stomach twisted at merely saying it out loud as you tried to ignore the noise somewhere behind you back.

“Nice one, Chuck,” Sarah praised all of sudden, pride evident in her voice for whatever reason.

You really, really wanted to ask what the hell was happening or to look, but when you glanced Chuck’s way, you only found him near his station, an unsure and yet somehow cocky smile on his face.

“Don’t slip too, Perez,” Natasha muttered mockingly, her words not making a lick of sense either. “Chuck spilled bubble tea under the guy’s feet. He went down like a klutz and not a merc,” the spy explained for your benefit and this time, your chuckle was honest and relieved.

Two guys down then – both Batroc and whoever he was working with. No other runners, no other gunners. It was over.

Right?

This was it. You were safe. You had to be.

“Good job, team,” Sarah said, confirming your wishful thought, allowing you to breathe in and out.

You hadn’t even realized you had been holding your breath for a while now, but the air in your burning lungs was like the sweetest treat.

A smile spread on your lips as you met Steve’s gaze, warm yet still cautious; reluctant to believe as you were that it was that easy. Well, relatively easy for you. But you could feel it now, the calm washing over you, your frantic heartbeat slowing down, the painful tension in your muscles melting away.

“Keep your eyes open just until we have the arrest team lock them away. I’m staying in position,” Sarah added, but not even the rest of the team responding ‘copy’ stopped you from gradually relaxing, weight lifting from your chest.

It was truly over. You could laugh.

Dropping a kiss to Steve’s shoulder with a sigh, you breathed him in, even if his borrowed shirt smelled all wrong. He was still him and he was here with you.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whispered, earning a kiss to the crown of your head in return.

“Always.”

Hearing the single work spoken with tenderness and finality, you withdrew only to flash him a bright grateful smile, another chuckle spilling from your lips, a little hysterical perhaps.

You’d have a hard time describing the weight that fell from your shoulders, your brain still full of frantic thoughts, hardly processing that this was all it took – for you and Steve to sit in a café in a mall, while several people around you did their job and caught two dangerous criminals who had been after you.

This was it. You were free again, no gunmen running around the world wanting you dead for things you hadn’t even done yet.

It was incredible. It was insane.

“I love you,” you couldn’t but blurt out as your gaze refocused on Steve’s face, causing his eyes to crinkle, sweet smile painting his lips.

“And I love you.”

Damn did you want to kiss him. And not just a peck to his cheek, no, you wanted his mouth and you wanted to kiss the living daylights of him, kiss him till you were breathless and you craved nothing but to have him to slam you against a wall and have his way with you.

Or maybe you’d drop to your knees for him, because all he did today deserved a thorough appreciation.

“There’s a loop on cam-“

The sudden extremely high-pitched noise interrupted whatever Bucky was about to say, making you hiss in pain and instantly tear your ear piece out just to make it stop.

Startled, you shot Steve a look, finding his face twisted in pain – you weren’t the only one to hear the sound then. But unlike you, Steve just gripped his ear tight and--- and the acute panic that appeared in his wide eyes had your blood turn to ice.

You didn’t get the chance to ask what he heard.

His gaze flickered behind you and the next thing you knew, several things happened at once so fast that the world turned into a blur.

A painful grip and tug to your arm sent you tumbling to the floor as a deafening bang cut through the white noise of the mall; a low hiss sounding right next to your ear and then you landed hard on your side, Steve’s body nearly crushing you due to the momentum.

Four more shots rang through the air, causing you to curl into yourself on instinct – or trying to – before you managed to open your eyes and roll over a bit, Steve’s weight leaving you and allowing you to suck in a breath.

Your heart thundered in your chest, screams filling your ears while you only saw a mess of feet running in various directions. Giving up and praying someone was handling whatever was happening, your eyes found Steve’s face. His gaze frantically scanned your body, the blue of his eyes almost swallowed by his black pupils, starkly contrasting to his pale face.

He reached out before you could let out a sound or move a muscle, his hand sprawled over your cheek while you still tried to catch your breath and make sense of what just happened.

Had he… had he just tackled you to the ground?! The very moment the shooting started? What the fuck, was he-

“Are you okay?!” he demanded just as you opened your mouth to ask him the very same question.

You instinctively covered his hand on your face with yours, blinking as you felt an acute urge to check on him too, following the line of his forearm to his torso.

Your heart stopped, all blood draining from your face, wind knocked out of you, bile rising up your throat.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you choked out.

Blinding panic filled every ounce of your being as your gaze fell on his arm, the one he reached out to you as if the fabric of his shirt wasn’t turning an alarmingly dark colour.

Blood.

He was bleeding.

And the fabric was torn.

Was that--- had he caught a bullet?! Did he- Your ears started ringing when the information registered in your brain.

Oh god. Oh fuck- fuck! He got SHOT!

You jerked up to a sitting position, not caring how stupid it was of you to do that. Steve’s arm slipped from your face as you moved, a hiss of pain leaving his lips. His gaze followed your line of sight, lips parting in shock.

It seemed as if he hadn’t felt that until now. How did he NOT feel that?!

He got shot for God’s sake!!

“Oh.”

OH?! That was what he all he had to say to that?! He was-

Your head spun, stomach twisting in a tight knot; the fabric kept turning darker, the stain growing in front of your eyes.

Doing the first thing that flashed through you mind, you yanked your blouse off, crumbling the fabric and pressing it hard against the wound despite your shaky hands.

“Fuck-“ Steve cursed through his gritted teeth, face twisting in agony, and you felt tears spring from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out automatically, wincing at the hurt look he gave you.

The vibration of the floor reached you before the distant sound of rushed footsteps did.

“Well, look at you, loverboy. Not bad,” a vaguely familiar male voice hummed and all you wanted to was to punch whoever praised Steve for getting fucking SHOT.

But you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the shock written all over Steve’s pale face.

A hand covered yours, gently pushing it away. Snapping your head up, you registered Sarah, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Let me see,” she prompted you gently, the calm in her voice making you want to scream, because how could she be so CALM?! “Trust me.”

Clearly, she was convinced there was no real reason to panic. Or no reason to press against the wound, which what the fuck. Hopefully, she knew what she was doing.

Feeling your lips wobbling in fear of what you’d see, you took a shaky breath, but obliged and reluctantly removed your hands.

The knife materialized out of fucking nowhere, but before you knew it, it was cutting through the wet fabric, revealing enough flesh and blood that you had to avert your gaze just to control the brutal somersaults your stomach made.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” Sarah stated and you couldn’t but shoot her an incredulous look, flabbergasted at the brief smile passing her lips. “Good reflexes, Steve. You probably just saved your fiancé’s life.”

Risking a glance at Steve’s face at the statement, you found his gaze slightly absent before he closed his eyes altogether, sweat beading on his brows.

“Good,” he uttered, heavy-lidded gaze finding you with little trouble, chest heaving.

Sarah took over your previous job and pressed against the wound. Steve gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, but didn’t let out a sound. It was like a punch straight to your solar plexus – you didn’t know if he was trying to be strong for you or for the spy team, but it made you want to tear your hair out.

You wanted him to scream, to let it out instead of bottling it in. Fuck if you could just take at least a fraction of the pain he must have been feeling away, you would. But you couldn’t – you were utterly useless.

A panicked cry of his name erupted from your throat when the visible tension on his face vanished and his body went limp.

“Just passed out, he’ll be fine,” Sarah assured you, scanning her surroundings in a search of something you didn’t care for. Because… ‘Fine?’ FINE?! “The ambulance is on its way, don’t worry. It’s probably just adrenalin wearing off.”

“And here I thought he deserved a compliment,” Casey grumbled, rising to his feet, tending to the several newcomers of whom you caught a glimpse from the corner of your eye. You couldn’t stop staring at Steve’s pale face, feeling like you were about to pass out yourself, sobs shaking your form.

He got shot. He was unconscious. How could that be fine?!

And then a realization hit you like a train, knocking the wind out of you.

He got shot. – when tackling you to the ground.

“Oh my god, he got shot because of me,” you whispered, the reality of it finally settling in, causing dark spots dance in front of your eyes.

Not only that Steve was injured, hit by a fucking bullet; he was hit by a bullet that was meant for you.

Jesus fucking--- FUCK.

“Hey champ, breathe. He probably saved you something much worse like a bullet to your head, so this is nothing.”

Was that supposed to calm you down?!

“As harsh as that sounds, what Casey says is true. And I know it looks bad to an untrained eye, but take it from someone who saw and felt a few gunshot wounds. This is just a graze,” Sarah assured you softly, trying to reason with you, but you shook your head frantically, tears streaming down your face.

“He passed out-“ you objected, only to be interrupted.

“It’s not serious, but it still hurts. He’s not used to it. And like I said, the adrenalin was wearing off. Not to mention he probably didn’t get much sleep last night, worried about today. We all were. But it’s over now.”

“What’s--- oh my god,” Chuck’s voice reached your ears and for the first time, you were able to tear your gaze away from Steve’s unconscious form. Only to see nothing but Chuck’s side, his face turned away, hand gripping nearest upright chair.

“Sit down before you pass out too, hero,” Casey grunted, clearing the way for paramedics you hadn’t even seen arriving.

“Yeah, I’m gonna… I’m gonna do that. Just… really glad to see everyone else is okay.”

Yeah, you were ‘okay’.

But Steve wasn’t. Steve wasn’t okay at all. He was being moved to a stretcher, still limp apart from the periodical rise and fall of his chest, unaware of what was happening around him.

He was unconscious because he got shot, having lost a lot of blood.

And it was because of you.

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Part 8 (last for the series)

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Oops? (No, Steve’s not getting a metallic arm instead of Bucky.)

-

Title explanation: based on a scene from Chuck where Sarah finds Casey shot with tranquilizers (and later learns Chuck did it, having left on a mission which will likely get him killed, with nothing but a vest and a tranq gun).

S: “Where’s Chuck?!”

C: “In the world of pain.”

-