I Swear Too Much

Steve Rogers

It Was Supposed to Be Easy

Bucky Barnes

That’s My Girl

For As Long As You Need Me

I Was Born Ready

911: Lone Star

Summary: You're kidnapped on a mission gone wrong and it only gets worse. You eventually escape, but will Bucky and the team see you the same way?

Word Count: 6517

Warnings: swearing, some injuries, angst, whump

Content: Bucky x reader, Y/N, Avengers, whump, kidnapping. All of my fics are self-indulgent.

Please don't claim my work as your own, but feel free to reblog.

You wiped the sweat from your brow.  As far as you could tell, it had been 5, maybe 6, days since you were taken. You knew what HYDRA were doing. They were trying to break you. You adjusted your legs and shifted your weight in the dark, cramped space.  For the last several hours, you had been locked in some sort of box, just big enough to crouch or sit with crossed legs. It was hot as hell and you’d been sweating profusely, wondering how much longer you would last before passing out from dehydration or dying from heat stroke. But you tried not to worry about it. They will come for you soon. He will come for you. You just need to hang on a little while longer.

               A few more hours had passed, and the heat was suffocating. What little strength you had left was dwindling. You rested your head against the wall of the enclosure and closed your eyes, fighting the nauseating dizziness that threatened to overcome you.  The rattling of chains caught your attention. It seemed like the sound was getting closer. It was then you realized you had drifted- asleep? Unconscious? You weren’t sure, but you fought like hell to focus your attention on what was happening right outside your tiny prison. Suddenly, there was a sharp creak of metal and cool light flooded the box. You squinted your eyes, desperate to see what was going on.

“Get up!” a harsh voice demanded.

Your body shook as you tried to stand, but it was no use. You were too weak and dehydrated.

“GET UP!” they shouted angrily, as if that would provide the strength needed to undo the last several hours of torture.

Instead, your body gave up completely and you slumped inside the box. The next thing you registered was the sensation of a cool breeze on your face and the tops of your feet scraping along concrete as they dragged you by your arms back to your cell.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

“The fuck you mean it’s abandoned?” you whispered.

“I mean, I’m not picking up any heat signatures inside the building,” Sam clarified, adjusting Redwing’s controls just to be sure.

Bucky lowered his chin, smiling to himself. He knew you were always looking forward to a fight.

“All right, until we clear it, we’re going to proceed with caution,” Steve began, “Y/N and Bucky, you’re going to enter the south side of the building. Sam and I will cover the north entrance. Position Redwing on the east to detect movement from the access road. Once it’s clear, we set the charges and evacuate.”

You stole a sideways glance at Bucky and tried to hide your excited smile. You loved working with Bucky; you consider him to be your best friend. You felt like there might even be more there too. But you never pushed him. If being friends was all he wanted, then you would be happy with that.  Bucky was mostly quiet and reserved, but sometimes he would open up to you, tell you about his life before the war. Sometimes, but very rarely, he would reveal the horrors HYDRA inflicted upon him. You couldn’t respond; only listen in sickened contempt. Your hatred for them became personal because of what they put him through, but you also began to piece together how they operate, their torture methods, and their twisted thought processes. You filed away this information little by little, to use against them and one day, take them down. It became your personal mission, why you were so eager to take on HYDRA related missions, and so disappointed when they turned out to be flops.

Your thoughts were interrupted by an elbow gently nudging your arm. “You ready?” Bucky said as your eyes met his.

“I was born ready,” you replied, smugly.

Bucky smiled at your enthusiasm, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was tired of fighting, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to watch HYDRA burn to the ground. Having you fight beside him, though, was a double-edged sword. He enjoyed your company more than he let on, but he also worried for your safety.  He always asked Steve to pair you two together as much as possible on missions (so he could keep an eye on you), and he always received a knowing look in return. You were one of the best fighters Bucky had ever seen, but you could also be impulsive. Most of the time, you managed to compensate for this flaw and come out on top in the fight, but there have been quite a few close calls. Too close for Bucky’s comfort, even if you insisted you had everything under control.

“After you then,” Bucky said, gesturing to the south entrance.

“Such a gentleman,” you flirted, even though your tone was a bit condescending. You didn’t miss the fact that Bucky liked to keep an eye on you. It was obvious, the way he stuck by your side for every mission. It was sweet, but completely unnecessary.

Entering the building was uneventful. As you looked around, you took note of all the dust and debris, the result of what must have been years of no use. Maybe Sam was right, it must be abandoned. What a waste of time. You continued your sweep, clearing each derelict room.

“Second and third floors are clear,” Sam’s voice sounded in your comm.

“Well, aren’t you an over-achiever?” you responded mockingly.

“Y/N, Buck. What’s your status?” Steve asked, attempting to maintain professionalism on the mission. Captain Steve didn’t know how to have fun. Killjoy.

“First floor is clear, heading to the basement now,” Bucky reported, shooting you a ‘behave yourself’ look. You stuck your tongue out at him and ran for the stairwell.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Come on! There’s nothing here. Let’s clear this moldy-ass basement so we can blow it up and get home. I’m starving!” you announced.

Bucky caught up with you and roughly grabbed your elbow to pull you back.

“We need to be careful. This is HYDRA we’re dealing with. You need to take this seriously.”

You ripped your arm from his grasp, offended he would be so rough with you. “This isn’t HYDRA. This isn’t anything. There’s literally nothing here.”

Bucky schooled his expression. He didn’t want to be angry with you, but your recklessness could put everyone in danger. He let out a frustrated sigh, putting his hands on your shoulders and lowering his head to look into your eyes.

“Will you please be more careful? For me?”

You were momentarily stunned by the soft cadence of his voice. But quickly regathered your thoughts.

“Bucky, I am being careful. You need to lighten up.” You shrugged out of his grasp and turned back to the stairwell.

What is with everyone today? The super-soldiers are being super-serious. Even Sam seems like a stick in the mud, definitely not his usual, talkative self. Did you do something to offend them? You thought about the events of the last few days and couldn’t think of anything out of the ordinary. Definitely nothing that would explain what everyone’s problem is.

You glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky a few paces behind you as you descended the last of the stairs and reached the basement.

“Well, I didn’t think it was possible, but this looks even more abandoned than the first floor,” you said giving Bucky a pointed look.

“Just keep your eyes open for anything suspicious.” Bucky gently brushed past you to take the lead, advancing down the corridor. He had an uneasy feeling he just couldn’t shake.

“Suspicious?” you remarked sarcastically. “This whole mission is suspicious. What are we fighting here? The cobwebs? The ridiculous amount of dust?” You pushed past Bucky to take the lead again, but when you glanced back, you realized he had stopped. He was looking at you with wide eyes; his expression, one you didn’t recognize.  

“What? What is it?” you asked, concern growing in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re right. Nothing about this is right. There’s too much dust. Our source indicated there was activity here less than a year ago. It shouldn’t look like this.”

You looked around nervously. “Maybe the source was wrong.”

“Not likely…”

Unexpected static in the comms made you jump. You could hear Steve’s voice, but it kept breaking up and you couldn’t understand what he was saying until you made something out very clearly that made your blood run cold.

Pull back……’s a trap…--t out…ABORT!

Your eyes locked with Bucky’s. You froze. He was standing about 10 feet from you when you both registered a rapid clicking noise, like a sped-up clock.

“RUN!!” You heard him yell just before the explosion.

The wall behind you erupted, sending you several yards through the air until you collided with the ground. You could feel the heat and unbearable pressure on your back as you lay prone in the ruins. Dust swirled around you. After several moments of trying to remember how to breathe again and process what the hell had just happened, you remembered that Bucky was with you. You glanced over in his direction, but all you could see was a literal wall of rubble, fire, and smoke. You struggled to focus your eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that were forming. Damn, that hurt.

Distantly, you could hear someone calling your name.

“Buck--,” your voice was cut off by a coughing fit as the dust invaded your lungs. “Bucky…” you tried again.

“Y/N?” he sounded closer. You could hear movement, crumbling concrete. “Are you hurt?”

It was at this point, you realized you should probably take a moment to figure out the damage.

“Y/N??” his voice sounded more concerned, more urgent. You weren’t sure how long you had taken to respond.

“Uhh…I….I think I’m okay……I can’t move. I think…ahh…there’s something on my back,” you choked out.

“You’re gonna be okay. We’re coming to get you. Just..hang on, okay? Hang on.”

Hearing this made you relax. Getting blown up was exhausting. You were certain you were going to hear about this later. About how you should have listened to Bucky, been more careful, taken the mission more seriously. You closed your eyes, trying to reserve your strength. You would need it to climb out of this burning hole in the ground.

After a few minutes, you felt the pressure on your back lessen. That was fast. You opened your eyes and tried to focus on Bucky’s face, but then you heard his voice from behind the burning wall of concrete. Confused, you concentrated your attention on the blurry figure standing before you. HYDRA. You gathered all your strength, trying to fight, but you couldn’t get a single hit in before a blow to your face rendered you unconscious.

Bucky heard footsteps and scraping rocks on the other side of the barrier. He had finally managed to make a dent in the rubble just large enough to see through. To see you being dragged away by HYDRA.

“NOOOO!” Bucky frantically slammed his metal fist into the rubble, trying to break through, but it was no use. He couldn’t get to you in time. He watched as you disappeared into the dust and smoke.

You were freezing. Another week had passed, maybe two. You weren’t sure. It was the same thing. Over and over.  Freezing to the point you couldn’t move or think. Then they would throw you in the box again until you passed out from the heat. You didn’t even know what they wanted. They didn’t ask you anything, barely said three words to you. Wouldn’t answer any of your questions. How the hell did they expect to get information out of you if they didn’t fucking ask you anything? Idiots. You’d be glad to give them as much false information as you could muster.

You were frustrated. Frustrated with this pointless torture and frustrated that no one had broken you out of this shithole yet. What was taking so long?

The next day was new. This time a man in a lab coat came into your cell. Based on the history of everything you have come to know about HYDRA, the lab coat is not a good sign.  He peered down at you where you sat against the cold, concrete wall.

“She’s ready,” he practically drooled with excitement. Disgusting.

Two oversized goons entered your cell and brought you to your feet as another ganglier looking goon wheeled in a stretcher. Your stomach dropped. Not good. This is not good. You tried not to let anxiety and fear get the best of you. You’ve endured the heat, the cold, the physical pain and the repulsive goop they fed you, but this was new, and you had no idea what they had planned.

“No. No no no. What are you doing?” You kicked and fought weakly as they strapped you down. You were unable to move.

Lab coat leaned in close to your face. You could smell the wicked stench rolling out of his mouth.

He simply answered, “Phase two.”

……..

“What do you want? You’ve been torturing me for weeks and haven’t asked me a damn thing! Do you even know how this works? No? Must have missed that day in torture 101.”

The lab coat stopped what he was doing and turned to face you. Amusement and almost pity plastered on his face.

“My dear. I haven’t been torturing you. I’ve been preparing you.”

…………

The first injection must have been a sedative and, for that, you were thankful. Your vision became blurry and all your muscles relaxed at once. You could’ve almost fallen asleep. Until the second injection. At first, it was cold, like ice running through your veins. Starting in your arm and flowing through your chest before settling in the rest of your limbs. It was enough to make you shiver and shake uncontrollably. With the last injection came the unbearable heat. It spread through you like wildfire, burning through the sedative and blistering your nerves. It coursed through your body, the agonizing flames filling your skull, threatening to split it open. It was too much. Unbearable. You thrashed your arms and legs beneath the restraints, screaming until you went hoarse. Nothing you did relieved the pain, the burning.  You were left alone in your misery, knowing nothing but the searing pain in your head, threatening to end your life. You hoped it would.

Then, it stopped. You thought maybe death had finally taken you and you felt sadness, for Bucky. For the team. But you were back in your cell. This couldn’t be death. Death isn’t this cruel.

You rolled on your side and slowly sat upright, fighting off the dizziness. You felt horrible, like you should be dead, but at least the pain had subsided. You experimentally staggered to the door of your cell and peered through the slot. It was eerily silent. Still, you waited to see if anyone approached. They almost always did when you awoke to send you for another round of torture…or wait. What did he say? They were preparing you..for what? The injections, ice and fire, the pain, all came flooding back to you. What did they do? Your breaths came faster. You had to get out of there. Fear and panic were in control now. You pushed and pulled at the door feverishly, and to your surprise, the door opened. Worried this was another trap, you stepped back, but no one came. What the fuck?

You left your cell and made your way down the hallway, searching for the exit or at the very least, a weapon. The building was completely cleaned out. They left you there, their experiment. Did they think you were dead? Or just a failure? You didn’t feel any different. Those HYDRA morons must have been bigger fucking idiots than you gave them credit for. Still, you weren’t going to stick around. When you finally made it out of the building, you realized you actually recognized the area. You weren’t that far from the compound. It made you sick to think you were only 10 or so miles from home this whole time, and still, they couldn’t find you. HYDRA could have practically walked up and rang the front doorbell, and the team would have had no idea.

It was cold outside and you were dressed only in a thin gown. You walked for hours, determined to make it home. You had no way of contacting anyone. You were surrounded by a few trees and fields of nothing. The final yards leading up to the compound were grueling. You were exhausted. Your feet bled and your legs shook with the effort.

It was early evening, you guessed, when you painfully stumbled into the common room, where Steve, Bucky and Sam all sat, attention focused on various maps and blueprints laid out before them. Steve saw you first, eyes staring and mouth hanging open. It would have been humorous had you not just been through hell and back. Bucky stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Steve’s expression and turned his head to see what Steve was staring at.

“Y/N??” Bucky couldn’t believe it. His eyes ran over your battered form, watching your whole body shake with fatigue.

You didn’t know what to say. You tried to choke back the tears that were now streaming down your face.

But this was all you could handle. You were suddenly dizzy, the room had started to spin and you dropped to your knees as Bucky ran towards you.

“Oh God! Call Dr. Cho!” Bucky ordered, but Sam was already on it.

You collapsed into Bucky’s arms and saw Steve running toward you. Bucky’s alarmed face was the last thing you saw before your eyes involuntarily closed.

When you awoke the next day, you were alone in the med bay. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to force out the lingering headache. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and were about to remove your IV when Bucky walked into your room.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said as he approached you cautiously. “How are you feeling?”

“Um..really..hungover,” you cracked a smile trying to break the tension. “How long was I out?”

Bucky looked at his watch before responding, “About 23 hours.”

“Oh shit. New record.”

Bucky looked nervous. “We looked everywhere..”

“Not everywhere,” you retorted, sounding more bitter than you intended.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“Well…that makes two of us.” Your eyes stayed trained on the floor. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You spent weeks dreaming about seeing him again, and now you couldn’t even look at him. Why? Were you that angry that they couldn’t find you? They were obviously looking.

Bucky sensed that maybe this wasn’t the best time to broach the subject, so he changed it.

“So..uh…they want to do a debriefing on what happened as soon as you’re feeling well enough.”

You faltered. You didn’t want to talk about it, relive it. Especially so soon. But you’d rather get it over with so you can move on with your life. Put the whole ordeal behind you.

You looked down at the IV in your arm before ripping it out, the blood beginning to trickle down to your palm.

“Doll—what are you doing?” Bucky lunged toward you, grabbing gauze off the bedside table to apply pressure to the site.

You grabbed the gauze and took over applying pressure.

“I’m about to change my clothes,” you began glancing around the room before finding some in a bag below the bed, “so unless you want to see me naked, you can turn around.”

Bucky paused, mouth opening slightly before regaining his composure and turning to face away from you. You caught him off guard, which is honestly, something you’ve never seen happen.

You were a little disappointed. Maybe you’d been reading him wrong, and he doesn’t see you that way. Or maybe he’s just being a gentleman. This isn’t exactly the best time to explore your feelings for one another. Still, it stung.

………………………..

You sat at the table, nervously glancing at all the faces in the room. Fury, Tony, Steve, and Sam all had their eyes on you. Everyone except Bucky. He stood in the corner, holding his gaze to the floor.  He looked more nervous than you felt. Weird.

They asked their usual questions, and you answered as best you could. But you didn’t feel comfortable enough to go into extensive detail. You trusted these men with your life, but it was starting to feel less like a debriefing and more like an interrogation.

“…and you’re sure that’s all you remember?” Fury asked again.

You looked around the room again, each set of eyes seeming frustrated. Expecting more information than what you’ve provided for the last 2 hours. This was exhausting. A familiar headache was building behind your eyes, and you were beyond done with this.

When you didn’t answer right away, Tony asked another question. “They just let you walk away?” You could hear the blatant skepticism.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Tears were starting to fill your eyes. Damnit! This is not how you thought this would go, but you were feeling pressured, overwhelmed. “They tortured me! For weeks! The same damn thing. Over and over and over again! And I don’t know---maybe they thought I was DEAD!” You choked on a sob; tears streaming down your face now.

“Okay! That’s enough!” Bucky interjected, seemingly ending the questioning.

You quickly stood from your seat and rushed out of the room.

They all exchanged glances and Bucky lingered there silently for a moment before following you.

When he reached your room in the compound, he knocked, but you didn’t answer.

“Doll. It’s me. Can I come in?”

Again, you didn’t answer. He could hear your quiet cries. He tried the handle, but you had locked the door.

“Can you unlock the door, please?”

“Go away, Bucky,” you said, softly. You didn’t need to yell. You knew he could hear you.

“Come on. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” With that, he could hear you moving towards the door.

You angrily flung the door open, surprising Bucky and forcing him to take a step back. Your hair was disheveled, eyes red and still wet with tears.

“Do I look fucking okay to you!?!?” Bucky looked into your eyes, not knowing what to say.

“HYDRA imprisoned me, practically in our own fucking backyard and still no one came for me!”

“Y/N, I swear to you, we never stopped looking—”

“And as soon as I fight my way back here, you all grill me for information, like it was my fucking idea to get captured?”

“Doll, no one thinks this was—”

“I waited for—aagh—” the pain in your head suddenly flared. You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the skin between them. Your discomfort was evident.

“Hey, hey. What is it? What’s wrong?” Bucky’s worried eyes searched your face for answers.

You tried to recover, to push the pain aside.

“I waited for you—AAGH” the pain peaked. The same blistering heat threatening to end you, keeled you over.

With your shaking hands on your knees, you could feel Bucky move to your side. His arms wrapped around your waist to support you.

“Doll, what’s going on? Answer me. Please!”

But you couldn’t answer him. You were back on that stretcher. A prisoner, again. All you knew was the burning pain. Maybe this time, it would spare you the torment and claim your life.

“SOMEBODY HELP! I NEED HELP!” Bucky’s voice sounded far away.

The fire swirled in your skull and bile burned the back of your throat. You lurched forward, fell to your knees, and vomited on the floor. Everything was suddenly black, then nothing.

You awoke once more, alone, in the med bay.  Well, not completely alone. You could hear talking, whispers. Just outside your door.

There’s something she’s not telling me. But I’m not going to try to force answers out of her. She’ll come to me when she’s ready. I’m just going to be her friend. That’s what she really needs right now.

Just a friend? You felt the blanket of disappointment weigh on you again. You were pulled from your thoughts when Bucky opened the door.

You kept your eyes on him as he carefully entered the room.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Huh?”

“Who were you talking to just now?” You tried not to sound like you were accusing him, but you didn’t like being talked about behind your back.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Bucky shook his head, seeming to be genuinely confused.

Great. Now Bucky was lying to you. Some friend he’s trying to be. Even with him literally by your side, you were suddenly feeling very alone. No one trusted you. They think you’re hiding something. Truth be told, you are hiding something. You never told them about the injections, how the torture was actually “preparations”. You even left out the creepy lab guy coat because you were afraid. Afraid if they found out what really happened, that you were an experiment, they wouldn’t look at you the same way. You were afraid you would lose their hard-earned respect, your place on the team. You couldn’t risk it.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The pain? Passing out?” Bucky pressed, becoming serious. This felt like an interrogation again.

“Oh…it was just a headache,” you offered. Were you honestly expecting them not to ask?

“That’s bullshit. What happened to you? What did they do?” He seemed desperate and angry and you were becoming more and more guarded.

“I thought you weren’t going to force answers out of me.” You threw his words back in his face.

“What?”

“Nothing”

“What did you say just now?”

You were out of patience and just wanted to be alone. “Nothing. Please leave.”

Bucky stared at you, disbelieving, before turning his back on you and walking out the door.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. What the hell happened? Everything was fine. You were on a mission, business as usual, and then you were captured and tortured. You miraculously make it back home and suddenly, everyone is against you? You didn’t do anything wrong. Why is everyone acting like you’re at fault?  Your thoughts are becoming louder in your head, circling frantically and building tension. You clench your teeth, trying to hold in a scream, but you can feel an energy building inside you. You pull your knees to your chest, struggling to contain it. Your clenched fists pound at your temples. You don’t know what’s happening; you feel out of control, about to spill over. Explode.

Suddenly, you lose control, letting out an ear-piercing scream, releasing a force you had never felt before. All at once, glass bottles and cabinets shatter, the reinforced windows in your room crack. Furniture is thrown chaotically. Everything is broken, in a frightening disarray, and you’re left sitting in the ruins of what once felt like a safe place.

You tried to catch your breath, eyes darting around the room, attempting to make sense of what just happened.

Oh, God. Oh, God.  What did HYDRA do to you? What have you done? You needed to get out of there. Now. You jump to your feet, grab your clothes, and run. You shove past S.H.I.E.L.D. employees in the hallways, their thoughts intruding and overlapping with your own.  It took you a moment to realize what it was, what you were doing: unintentionally hearing their thoughts. You have to get away, get out. It’s too loud. You’re still running when you hear more familiar voices, but these aren’t in your head.

You can hear Bucky, Steve and Sam talking about what they found at the base where you were kept. Empty syringes. Medical equipment. Partially encrypted files describing some kind of experiment. They know—how could they not? Have they known this whole time?

“I don’t know what they did to her. She won’t tell me, but…she’s different.” Bucky spoke quietly.

Different? Is that how he saw you now? Is that why he’d been acting so strangely since you got back?

“Look man,” Sam reasoned, “she’s been through a lot. It would be weird if she wasn’t acting differently.”

“Still, if they did do whatever this experiment is on her, we don’t know what the outcome is…If she’s still herself, or even on our side,” Steve added.

Your heart dropped. You already felt like they didn’t trust you, which was bad enough, but now they’re against you? You waited for Bucky to defend you. He knows you better than anyone, but his silence spoke volumes. You thought Bucky, of all people, would understand what you’d been through. That you would never turn on them. You really were all alone in this. You felt the fear and uncertainty pouring out of the room.

Then, an unfamiliar voice on the intercom startled you.

Code Gray- Med Room 4. Code Gray- Med Room 4.

Shit. That was your room. Then the alarm started blaring and you ran. When did you become the enemy? How did this happen? You’re not part of HYDRA. You’re the victim. You managed to get out of the compound without anyone else seeing you. But you had no idea where to go from there.

Bucky, Steve, and Sam rushed to your med room. They stood there in disbelief, taking in the scene. It looks like a bomb went off.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked.

“We’re not sure, sir. We, uh, heard a scream and when we got here, the room was empty,” a nurse answered.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked, growing impatient.

“We don’t know, I’m sorry,” the nurse responded before quicky leaving the room.

Steve and Sam exchanged looks. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair.

“Buck….”

“No.”

“We need to consider all the facts, here.”

“No, Steve! She wouldn’t do this. She’s not HYDRA.”

“Dude, she was missing for weeks and then just waltzed through the front door? That doesn’t seem odd to you?” Sam added.

“She didn’t waltz, Sam. She could barely walk, then she collapsed,” Bucky defended.

“So you think they just let her go? When the hell has HYDRA ever just let anybody go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Her story isn’t adding up, Buck.”

“They did something to her, she’s different. I just don’t know why she’d hiding it.”

“What do you mean? What aren’t you telling us?” Steve questioned.

“I think….whatever they did to her, worked. I thought it was a coincidence, at first, but then…this,” he motioned around the room. “I think she could hear what I was thinking earlier, and I think this is part of whatever she’s going through. I think she’s enhanced.”

They all looked around the room, letting Bucky’s theory sink it.

Steve broke the silence. “We need to find her before she hurts someone.”

You were walking against the cold wind and found yourself back at the shithole. You weren’t sure what you were doing there. Looking for answers, maybe? Waiting for them to find you? Like they were supposed to do. Before the injections, before they turned on you, before you lost control. What did they think of you now? You’re certain they must think you’re HYDRA. Fear and despair surged through you, and you started to lose control again. Objects that surrounded you started to rattle and lift into the air, crashing into walls.

You saw movement from the corner of your eye, emotions flaring even further. They had found you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, wetting the front of your sweatshirt.  You had already lost everything. They may as well take you now and put you in whatever floating prison they have. They marked you as guilty the moment you walked back into the compound.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Bucky approached you slowly, motioning to Steve and Sam to hang back.

You slowly turned to face him. Finally seeing his face broke you, and you started to cry harder. The cot beside you rattled along with desks and shelves, lifting off the floor, quaking violently, erratically. Bucky held up his hands, gesturing to you that he meant you no harm. And you wanted nothing more than to believe him, to melt into his arms.

As your emotions ran wild with fear and anguish, the chaos around you swelled. You shook your head trying to empty it of the intrusive whispers. You were ready to surrender. You just wanted all this to be over, but when you looked past Bucky to see Steve and Sam in their full Avenger gear, a realization hit you. They were here to fight you. Bucky noticed the change in your demeanor. You felt the energy inside you intensifying again. The building began to tremble.

“Y/N. Y/N! Look at me! You’re going to be okay. We’re here to take you home.” Bucky tried to reason.

“No. NO! You’re here to hurt me. You don’t trust me, think I’m HYDRA!”

“That’s not true. We’re your friends. We want to help you,” Bucky insisted.

“Help me? That’s why you brought Captain America and Falcon with you?!”

You were angry now. If they wanted to take you, it would have to be by force. That’s what they wanted. You looked back over at Bucky and noticed the light reflecting off the tears that gathered in his eyes. You felt like you were about to detonate.

“Sweetheart, please,” Bucky pleaded with you; His hand stretched out towards you, beckoning you to take it.

The building shook even more violently with the release of your emotions. Once again, objects cracked and shattered all around you, but this time, the entire building threatened to come down on top of all of you.

“I can’t. I can’t control it….” You looked to Bucky, desperate for all this to end.

As dust and debris rained from the ceiling, you heard the order.

TAKE HER! NOW!

You whipped your head to the side, catching sight of Redwing; you hadn’t noticed it there before, but it was too late. Two darts struck your neck, delivering a powerful sedative. You swayed on your feet for only a moment before going down hard. All the objects flying around the room, uncontrollably, crashed to the ground at once. The building stood still once again. Whatever they hit you with was strong. You couldn’t move, but yet, you weren’t completely unconscious.  You could faintly hear distorted commotion around you and your eyes felt heavy.

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky kneeled at your side to brush your hair from your face, wiping your tears in the process.

“I’m sorry, Buck. We had to. You heard her. She couldn’t control it.”

Bucky gently picked you up and held you close to his chest. You could tell he was walking, but your vision was starting to blur even more. Then you felt his breath on your ear as he whispered that you would be okay. You were safe now. They were going to fix this. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into the darkness.

THREE WEEKS LATER

“I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore, Bucky.”

“You’re not a prisoner.”

“Well, I can’t leave. That is the definition of prisoner, right?”

“Bruce thinks he’s close to a cure. He just needs a little more time.”

“You’ve been saying that for 3 weeks.”

Bucky offered you a half-hearted smile, but it was tainted with regret.

You were beginning to doubt their ability to fix you. Where would they even begin? You were just the result of another fucked-up half-assed HYDRA experiment.  They couldn’t cure you any more than they could cure Bucky or Steve of being super-soldiers. You know it. They know it. You just wish they’d stop blowing smoke up your ass.

Just then, Bruce appeared behind the reinforced glass doors, pressing his palm to the scanner to gain access to your room.

He approached your bed with the same half-hearted smile Bucky imparted.

“Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling today?” Bruce began, like he always did when starting his examinations.

“Fine. Normal. How’s the cure coming along?”

He hesitated for a moment, ignoring your question before continuing with his own.

“Any more headaches?”

“No. Not really.”

“Good, good. That’s good.” More hesitation.

“Just spit it out, Bruce.”

“Well, uh..” he fiddled with his clipboard, pretending to review his findings. “We did some genetic profiling and it looks like the experiment has altered your DNA in ways we’ve never seen before. Your brain scans are phenomenal.”

“That’s not exactly comforting….” You knew where this was going, even though you didn’t completely understand the science of it all.

“What does that mean?” Bucky leaned forward in his seat, prompting Dr. Banner to elaborate.

“Well, I’m afraid it means we can’t cure you.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair; the atmosphere in the room deflated. He didn’t even look at you. You knew this was coming but hearing it out loud and seeing Bucky’s dejected reaction only solidified your fears. There is no hope.

Dr. Banner continued, “The good news is that you seem to be adapting and stabilizing well.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You didn’t want to hear anything else. You weren’t even listening. All you can think about is how you’re no longer an Avenger and how Bucky won’t even look at you now. You lost him; your best friend, maybe more. Where do you go from here?

“I just have a few more questions for you,” Dr. Banner began again, “Are you still able to hear the thoughts of others?”

“Yes. But I can mostly block it out. It’s gotten easier.”

Dr. Banner smiled. “And there haven’t been any more incidents….” He held up his pen. “Can you move this towards you, please?”

You looked up from your lap and focused on the pen, gently floating it above the bed until it reached your grasp.

“Amazing…”

You wished Dr. Banner would be a little less enthusiastic. Your life, as you know it, is over and you’re not in the mood for this.

“Okay. I’m releasing you from my care.”

“Wait. What? When?” You stared at him in awe. Is he joking?

“Right now.” He gathered his notes and left the room, door unlocked.

You felt Bucky grasp your hand. His smile was bright as he waited for your thoughts to catch up.

“Come on. We have a mission,” he coaxed.

“I-I don’t understand,” you hesitated. “I didn’t think you wanted---I didn’t think anyone trusted me.”

“Sweetheart, we do trust you…and I’ll always want you. No matter what.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter. “We found the shitbags that took you…you ready to kick some ass?”

Take care my lovely writer

Summary:  Steve’s eyes glazed over with tears he refused to let fall. He couldn’t give up. This isn’t how the mission goes. It was supposed to be easy. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.

Word Count: 1924

Warnings: swearing (obviously), violence, injuries, near death

Content: Steve Rodgers (Captain America) x reader whump fic. I got carried away again, but I tried to reel it in. Tried. 

Please don’t claim my work as your own. 

_____________________________________________________________

“I thought you said this would be a walk in the park, Steve,” you voiced into the comm.  You ducked behind a parked car and reloaded your pistol as bullets pelted the metal just inches above your head.

“There weren’t supposed to be this many.” Steve sounded out-of-breath.

You quickly peered over the trunk of the car, scanning the street for Steve, and firing a few rounds.  You didn’t see him.

“We need to have a conversation about where you get your intel,” you retorted.

With one last look, you bolted from your position behind the car and ran in the direction you last saw Steve.  Bullets showered the area as you ran, every one of them miraculously managing to miss you. You dove over the median and took cover behind a truck.

“I mean…” you were breathing heavily now. “There’s a big difference between 10 bad guys and 30 bad guys.”  A figure appeared in your peripheral vision, and you quickly fired a shot, eliminating the threat before holstering your weapon.

“Now is not the time, Y/N,” Steve reprimanded, throwing a man twice his size over his shoulder. He was clearly irritated at the situation, and you, admittedly, were not helping.

Directing your attention back to the fight, you threw a punch, hitting one attacker in the jaw and knocking him out, before turning and landing a kick to another one in the chest. But the second attacker barely budged. Confusion crossed your features as a revolting smile spread across the attacker’s face.  The fuck? He stepped toward you. You took a step back and spun, raising your leg to deliver a more powerful kick, but he caught your leg. Oh shit. A terrifying realization washed over you. You quickly reached for your gun, but he grabbed your wrist and threw you several feet, your body slamming into the hot asphalt of the highway, your firearm skidding away from you. “Aaghhh!” you let out a pain-filled scream as you landed, certain you must have cracked a few ribs. You scrambled to put distance between yourself and the enemy, clutching your side with one arm, struggling to pull air back into your lungs.

“Y/N?!” Steve yelled. You couldn’t tell if his voice was coming from your earpiece or somewhere nearby. Hopefully, the latter.

At first you couldn’t respond. You were still trying to get to your feet. It must have taken you too long because you heard Steve’s voice again.

“Y/N! ……Answer me!” he pleaded.

“Steve…” you wheezed, “super sol—” you were cut off abruptly by a hand around your throat. You were extremely capable of handling yourself, but you weren’t enhanced. You were no match for a super soldier’s strength. There weren’t supposed to be any here. There weren’t supposed to be any more anywhere. They thought all the serum had been destroyed. They were wrong.

The fingers around your neck tightened as you felt yourself being lifted off the ground. No air was moving in or out of your lungs. You couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t call for help. You hoped Steve had heard you. Both of your hands gripped the super-soldier’s wrist, frantically trying to release his hold. Your head pounded as you kicked your legs out, but you were losing strength. The world around you started to spin as your oxygen depleted, and a sudden fatigue took hold of you. Your vision became dark, and your eyelids grew heavy. Your grip on his wrist loosened and your arms fell to your sides as your eyes closed. Suddenly, you were falling.

 Steve’s eyes widened in fear as he heard your strangled warning. He moved quickly, neutralizing every combatant in his path, no longer bothering to pull his punches. As he ran towards the overpass, he spotted you, your body twisting helplessly in the grasp of HYDRA’s latest experiment.  He willed his body to move faster, but he wasn’t going to get to you in time. Steve watched as your arms fell to your sides and your body stilled.

“NOOOOO!” he yelled. And with all his strength, he threw his shield, bouncing it off the back of the other super-soldier’s head. You both dropped.

***

Steve crashed to his knees beside you, “Nonononono”.

He gently shook your shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. I need you to wake up!”

When he got no response from you, he leaned forward putting his ear to your chest. He heard nothing. No breathing. No heartbeat.

“Nonono, don’t do this! Come on, Y/N!” Steve lifted your chin to blow air into your lungs. Then clasped his hands over your chest and started compressions. Steve’s eyes glazed over with tears he refused to let fall. He couldn’t give up. This isn’t how the mission goes. It was supposed to be easy. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.

After a couple of agonizingly long minutes, your eyelids flew open, and you took a loud, shuddered breath. Fear swept over you. You kicked your legs, frantically backing away from Steve’s reach as you continued to gasp for air.

“Hey-hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re okay,” Steve tried to soothe you. “Just breathe.” He followed his own words and breathed a sigh of relief, a tear finally sliding down his cheek.

You took another deep breath and started coughing violently as Steve sat you upright. He rubbed comforting circles on your back as he encouraged your lungs to fill with air. Your body seemed to relax a little, but your eyes darted around, searching for the threat.  He seemed to notice your unease, “We’re okay. It’s over. You’re safe.” And as he said this, your eyes landed on the super-soldier that had very nearly crushed your windpipe.

“Steve…” you croaked, your voice straining against the swelling of your neck.

“Ssshhh. Don’t try to talk. Just focus on breathing.”

You ignored him and continued, “I’m so sorry. I fucked up.” You blinked back tears coming to terms with your nearly fatal mistake.

“What are you—don’t apolog-“ Steve shook his head in disbelief.

“I should have been paying more attention. If---if..”

“Y/N…” Steve tried.

“If I had just gotten to my gun a little faster then-“

“Y/N STOP!”

You stilled instantly. Steve never yelled, especially at you and it took you off guard.

“He almost fucking killed you! You weren’t breathing and I couldn’t hear your heart beating, and I didn’t think I was going to get you back and this is MY fault, damnit!”

Steve stared furiously into your eyes, trying to get you to understand. It was evident that he wasn’t mad at you. He was angry with himself.

“I’m the one who trusted the bad intel! It’s my fault you got hurt!”

You instantly regretted your words from earlier. You didn’t mean what you said. As far as you’re concerned, it was just playful bantering. You didn’t mind the challenge and neither one of you could have had any idea there was a super soldier in the midst.

“Steve….there’s no way you could have…” you started to push yourself off the ground and Steve hooked his arm around your back giving you support, but you suddenly gasped, face contorting with pain. You tucked your arm in, splinting your side.

He slowly lowered you to the ground. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His eyes searched your body frantically before landing on your side.

“Aaaggh, fuck! My side.” you ground out the words between clenched teeth. Between your throat and your side, you were now painfully aware of each breath you took.

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s okay,” you tried to reassure him. “I think I just cracked a couple ribs when he threw me.”

“When he—” Steve stopped himself. “Jesus, Y/N, just let me look. Please.”

After a moment of consideration, you leaned back and Steve carefully lifted the hem of your shirt to reveal dark purple bruising and scrapes covering your side.

Steve was silent for a moment as he stared at your injury. His expression was unreadable. You tried to control your breathing in an attempt to control the pain.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, fear coming back to his features.

“No…I don’t..think so,” you answered breathlessly. Trying to take a mental inventory of individual pains when your whole body is screaming at you, is taxing and damn near impossible.

“Y/N….”

“No. It just….it hurts. Can we go now? Please?” You were in so much pain, the thought of moving was horrifying, but laying in the street was worse.

Steve narrowed his eyes in concern as you attempted to stand up again. You painstakingly made it a few dozen Steve-assisted yards before you needed a break. You could feel your ribs shifting with every step and every breath.

“You okay?” Steve asked. It was a stupid question and he knew it, but you insisted on carrying yourself out of this shit-show.

“Yeah, yeah. Just need to catch my breath for a minute.” In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could do it, but Steve felt guilty enough. You didn’t want to rub your pain in his face any more than you already have.

“Catch your breath? You haven’t been breathing right since…..” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Steve, I’m okay. I just need a….” You started to sway a little as dizziness swept over you. You forgot what you were trying to say.

You were leaning on Steve more now, unable to hold yourself up at this point. He cradled your face in his hand as your head rolled to the side.

“Y/N? Hey- Look at me!” You weren’t completely unconscious, but you couldn’t get your body or your mouth to cooperate. “Shit!”

Steve scooped you up in his arms and ran for the jet.

*****24 HOURS LATER*****

How long will she need to stay here?

She suffered damage to her lung, like a bruise. It could have been a lot worse, but I’d like to keep her at least another day, just to be safe.

You forced your eyes open, the voices just outside the door helping to bring you to the surface of consciousness. You heard the door creak and watched as Steve “snuck” into the room.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are, Cap,” you whispered from under the oxygen mask.

You caught the look of surprise in his eyes, and he smiled. “And you’re supposed to be resting.” He sat in the chair beside your bed.

“I’m tired,” you complained.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Of resting,” you clarified.

“It’s only been a day. They just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am okay.”

“Almost dying twice in the last 24 hours is not my definition of okay.”

“The second time doesn’t count,” you argued.

“What? How does it not count?”

“I don’t know….it just…doesn’t.” Your eyes were getting heavy again and you were having a hard time following the conversation as fatigue crept up on you again.

Steve’s face softened as he watched you drift to sleep again, pausing a moment before deciding to reach out and take hold of your hand.

A second later, he felt your fingers tighten around his.

“Thanks for not letting me die, Steve,” you whispered gently.

If your eyes were open, you would have seen the crooked, half-smile on his face.

“Anytime…..thanks for coming back to me, sweetheart.” He brought your hand up to place a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Summary: You want nothing more than to go on missions, but being sidelined leads to disastrous consequences.

Word Count: 5810

Warnings: swearing, torture, injuries, whump, whump, whump

Content: This is another Bucky x reader whump fic. Some angst, some fluff if you look hard enough. Use of Y/N.

Please don’t claim my work as your own. Enjoy!

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You stiffened in your seat, your body becoming tense with anger. So, this is why they called you into a last-minute meeting.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You shifted your gaze from the table up to where Steve and Tony were standing. You suddenly felt like a child that had been sent to the principal’s office. You were being punished. You stared at them awkwardly, almost waiting for them to break and tell you this was just a joke. But the silence continued.

Steve averted his eyes first. “Y/N, you’re still healing.  We don’t think it’s safe for you to be--.”

“The doctor cleared me for active-duty last week, Steve!” You almost felt bad for yelling, but this was completely unfair.

“I know, but we can’t ri--.”

“No, Steve! I’m going on this mission!” You said decisively, even though you knew you were losing the argument.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Tony chimed in. “But you’re benched for now. Wanda and Clint are handling this one.”

You opened your mouth to press your case, but quickly closed it. There was no changing their minds, especially Tony’s. You pushed your chair back from the table with both hands and stood abruptly.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, wiping all emotion from your face and voice. “Fine.” You gave them each one last look before turning and walking quickly out of the meeting room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

You made your way back to your room and slammed the door shut. You can't believe they're doing this to you. You were dressed in your tactical gear, literally about to leave for the mission and then they pull this shit. You changed out of your tac suit and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. They may be able to stop you from going on missions, but they can’t stop you from training.  You heard a gentle knock on your door. Trying to pull on your sneakers, you hobbled over to the door and opened it, surprised to see Bucky standing there, leaning against the frame with one arm. He brought his gaze from the floor and a gentle, lopsided grin appeared on his face as his eyes met yours.

“Hey…” He entered the room, eyes taking in your appearance.

“Hey. Since when do you knock?” You replied, defeat becoming apparent in your voice.

He shrugged. “How did the meeting go?”

“They’re fucking ‘benching’ me.” You were trying hard to keep your emotions in check.

“For how long?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. They didn’t say.” You said, starting to feel completely dejected.

Bucky stepped closer to you, brushing a few lose strands of hair out of your face. “Maybe it’s for the best. It has only been 6 weeks. This gives you a little more time to heal.”

“Bucky! I’m fine! The doctor cleared me last week!”

“Y/N, sweetheart, you took a major hit to your head—”

“I know, Bucky, but I’m fine!”

“You were unconscious for 2 days!” Bucky threw his hands in the air for emphasis.

“I can’t believe you’re taking their side on this!” Your anger started bubbling to the surface.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side.” Bucky tried to bargain. “You’re not ready yet. Just a few days ago, you barely bumped your head while we were sparring and ended up with a migraine!”

You paused, staring at him in disbelief, finally understanding. “Oh my God. You’re the one who’s benching me,” you accused.

“Y/N….”

“You’re the one who told them I’m not ready! How could you do this?! You know how much this means to me—how hard it’s been sitting on the sidelines, mission after mission! Feeling completely useless!” You were screaming now, your anger forcing tears into your eyes.

“I know going on missions means a lot to you, but your health and safety are far more important. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you, especially because you went back into the field too soon. I love you. You mean everything to me.” Bucky reached out to take your hands in his, but you pulled away, backing away towards the door. You shook your head at him, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

“If that were true, you would believe me when I tell you that I’m fine. You would give me a chance to prove myself. You wouldn’t try to take this away from me.” You grabbed your coat and purse, turning back towards the door. You felt his hand grab your wrist as you reached for the doorknob. “Let me go, Bucky.” You demanded without looking at him.

“Where are you going?” He sighed, sounding exhausted.

“None of your damn business. Let me go.” You ripped your arm from his grasp, and he let you.

“Y/N, please don’t leave.”

You barely heard him as you slammed the door in his face.

It was getting colder, and the dry fall air nipped at the exposed skin of your face. You flipped up your collar and shoved your hands into the pockets of your coat. You had been wandering the streets of New York for a few hours now, fruitlessly trying to clear your head. Even though your anger had dimmed, you couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of your own worthlessness, and you couldn’t bring yourself to go back to the tower, to your home, and face Bucky.

As you continued to walk, you allowed your thoughts to take you to the past. Every once in a while, they liked to remind you of your insecurities; reopen old wounds and rub salt in them. It wasn’t like your parents ever abused you. You always had clean clothes and food on the table, but they weren’t the most supportive people on the planet. Nothing you ever did was good enough. It didn’t matter how hard you worked or how perfect your grades were in school; it would never be enough to earn a simple ‘good job’ and certainly not a ‘we’re proud of you’. But there were occasions when you would forget to do the dishes or sweep the floors before they got home from work, and they would call you ‘worthless’ and ‘good for nothing’. They were simple words and if they came from anyone other than your parents, you would simply let them roll off your back. But you were born and raised with the mindset of pleasing them. As you grew up and moved away from them to go to college, you slowly learned how to place value in yourself and not at the hands of others. But sometimes, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, you couldn’t help feeling like you weren’t good enough. Worthless.

You couldn’t help feeling that same worthlessness for the past 6 weeks following your injury. You were very fortunate not to have any lasting neurological damage after taking a significant blow to the back of your head. You barely remember what happened, but apparently you were outnumbered in your section of the base and Bucky couldn’t get to you in time. You became overwhelmed in the fight, and a random HYDRA thug got the upper hand and threw you off your feet, forcing your head to collide with a cinder block.  The story is barely glorious, and the goon wasn’t even a super-soldier. When Bucky recounted the events for you, you remember thinking: if you were going to almost meet your untimely demise, you would at least want a cooler story to go along with it. He wasn’t amused.

As your thoughts circled back to Bucky, you felt anger again, and something else you now identified as betrayal. It was terrible knowing that Steve and Tony didn’t trust you to go on missions anymore, but even worse was that Bucky didn’t either. He didn’t think you were capable after the events of the last mission. How are you supposed to get past this? This is your job, your life. If you can’t do this, then what good are you for anything? You pulled out your phone to find 6 missed calls and 5 text messages, all from Bucky. Choosing to ignore them, you texted your friend instead. She had always offered her apartment to you if you needed it and she often traveled for work. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to take her up on her offer.

It was only 6:30pm, but it was already dark outside when you slid the spare key into the lock of your friend’s apartment. You were greeted with silence and the soft glow of city lights peeking through the curtains. For the first time that evening, you felt like you could take a deep breath.  You helped yourself to a glass of wine (or two) and settled in front of the TV, searching for the first thing you could find that would sufficiently keep your mind off of things.

It wasn’t quite 7:30pm when you heard an urgent knock at the door. What in the actual fuck? Your friend lives alone and is hardly ever home. Who randomly shows up like that? (Except for you, of course) Being a paranoid person by nature and profession, you stealthily moved from the couch and approached the door. You didn’t have a sidearm due to your hasty and unplanned departure from the tower earlier. You mentally cursed at yourself but proceeded to look through the peephole. Steve?

A look of clear annoyance and partial disbelief washes over your face as you open the door.

“What are you doing here, Steve?”

“We have been looking for you for hours.” He almost seems apologetic but mostly relieved.

“We?” You shift your focus to peer behind him, seeing no one else.

“Bucky and me. He’s not here. He’s checking that bar across town you like to go to.”

“How did you even know to look here?” You said, crossing your arms without spilling your wine.

Steve looks guilty now. “Well…uh…SHIELD kept records of all your contacts….”

You were confused now and narrowed your eyes at him. “I never listed this friend or location as a contact…”

“Yeah….” Steve trailed off, scratching his head, hoping you would connect the dots and he wouldn’t have to say it.

“Jesus Christ. So, what? They have agents tracking agents now? Why the fuck—how do—” You were at a loss for words and wanted nothing more than to end this conversation quickly and get back to your solitude.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier, but Bucky has a point. If you’re still having headaches, you should see the doctor again. It would be in your best interest if—”

“It would be in my best interest,” you began, gritting your teeth, “if you left. Tell Bucky you found me and I’m fine. Both of you can go home.”

He sighed in defeat. “Okay. Okay. Just…be safe. He just worries about you, you know; we all do. And I can’t guarantee that he won’t show up here.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You moved to close the door. “Good night, Steve.”

Approximately 45 minutes later, just when you thought you were in the clear, you hear another knock on the door. This time, it was gentler. Bucky. You rise from the couch, wine glass in hand, foregoing the stealth and paranoia you employed earlier. You fling the door open, fully prepared to tell Bucky off, but you can’t. He isn’t here. Instead, you’re met with a fist flying towards your face. It happened so fast; you didn’t have time to react.

The fist angrily makes contact with your mouth, splitting your bottom lip and knocking you to the ground several feet back. The wine glass shatters on the floor, splattering its contents. You’re stunned and can’t seem to make yourself move. It feels like your mind is running in slow motion and you can’t keep up with the events happening around you. Your vision catches a large, dark figure moving towards you and, suddenly, you’re back up to speed. You spit out the blood that was pooling in your mouth and wiped your chin with the back of your hand. Glaring at the figure approaching you, you prepare to defend yourself this time. You pull up your knee, priming yourself to deliver a kick, when you feel someone else grab a fistful of your hair from behind you. What the fuck? How did I miss a second attacker? You’re jerked up by your hair until you’re barely on your feet before feeling your body being hurled across the room, your abdomen slamming into the corner of a coffee table. The pain exploding from your mid-section is making it harder for you to right yourself. You barely have time to wonder who the hell these guys are and what the hell they want before you feel the familiar sting of that fist in your hair, once again pulling you to your feet. This time he brings your face close to his. His hot breath invades your nostrils, almost making you gag. It only gets worse when he speaks.

“Fucking Avenger? My ass. This is too fucking easy.”

So, you were targeted. That was your last thought before your face struck the wall and everything went dark.

 It was 9:30pm. Bucky had debated going to the apartment to see you. He knew where you were and that you were safe. He kept telling himself that you just needed some time to calm down. But he hated not having you there with him, especially when you were upset. His resolve broke and he needed to see you.

As he approached the door to the apartment, he noticed it wasn’t completely closed, leaving a few millimeters of space before it would have clicked shut.

“Y/N?” he asked cautiously before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside.

It was dark, but the TV was still on. He stepped forward and froze when something crunched beneath his boot. Panic rose in his chest when he saw the broken remnants of your wine glass. Crouching down, his eyes scanned the floor until they landed on something much more terrifying. Blood.

“Y/N?” he tried again, praying you would answer. When you didn’t, he leapt to his feet and began frantically searching the apartment for you. You weren’t there. The only indication you were actually there was your purse and your cell phone untouched on the couch. Fuck. FUCK! His thoughts were racing. What happened? Where were you? This couldn’t have been a robbery gone wrong because everything else is untouched, including your purse and phone. You must have been a target, but for whom? And why? Who else could have possibly known you would be there? Bucky whips his head towards the kitchen when he hears paper rustling. A breeze. The window is open, and, in his panic, he hadn’t noticed. As he cautiously approached the window, he cringes as he sees more blood smeared on the windowsill. Bucky swallows hard, pushing down the bile that had risen in his throat. Suddenly, his phone rings, startling him.

“Steve…she’s gone.”

“I know. Buck…you need to get back to the tower. Now.”

“What?” How could he possibly—

“There’s something you need to see.”

 Bucky felt sick. Again. Tony pulled up a holographic view of the video, showing you in an empty room made of concrete. You sat in a chair with your hands tied behind your back. Your hair, messy and damp, hung down in front, obscuring your face. As the video played, everyone was silent. They didn’t know what to say. They couldn’t even tell if you were alive. But you had to be, right? They wouldn’t have sent a video if you weren’t. They wanted something.

Steve broke the silence. “So, what do they want? Is there anything else to the message?”

“No, that’s it. Just this video. No demands. Nothing.” Tony said, nervously tapped his fingers on the table.

“We have to find her.” Bucky finally spoke. He sounded distant, detached. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists. “Tony, can you check footage from traffic cams? Local businesses?”

“I already have FRIDAY on it,” he replied. And as if she were responding to a cue, she alerted them to her findings.

“Boss, I believe I may have found Miss Y/L/N’s location.”

They all rushed to the location FRIDAY had indicated, but you weren’t there.

 The first thing you noticed was the sound of water dripping. The steady rhythm was soothing, almost enough to lull you back to sleep, but the cold biting at your bare feet brought you all the way back to consciousness. Your eyelids were heavy as you tried to look around the unfamiliar surroundings. It was dark, but you could tell the walls were concrete and the air smelled damp and musty. It reminded you of an old dirt basement. What the hell? You struggled to remember what happened. Your head was pounding, and you couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember…anything about how you got here. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, and you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting off a sudden swell of nausea.

The sound of footsteps brought your attention to your right. A sudden bright light assaulted your eyes, your head feeling like it was splitting open. Shadows violently danced around the room as a single light bulb was switched on, swinging back and forth over your head. It was too much. You twisted your body, fighting against the restraints that held you to the chair, and emptied the contents of your stomach onto the floor.

“It’s nice to see you’re awake, Y/N.” The foreign voice echoed in the empty room.

Your chest heaved as you tried to recover your dignity. You now noticed the pair of boots standing next to you and wondered how long they had been there. “Who the fuck are you?”

“My name isn’t important. We are one. We are everywhere. Cut off one—”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve heard this before and I don’t care. What the fuck do you want?”

Then you heard a noise cut through the air and you knew exactly what it was: the static crackling of electricity from a stun gun. Fuck. Oh fuck. You tried to maintain your bravado, but your stomach squirmed in anticipation of the pain to come.

You forced yourself to relax your facial expression. “Torture? That’s it? That’s your game plan? Because I’m going to be honest with you, it’s been done before and if you think—”

“I WANT YOU TO SUFFER! Every. Single. One of you. They’re going to watch you die. And after they’ve buried you, I’ll move on to the next. One by one until all the Avengers are dead.”

You fought back a chill and then heard a click. Turning your head, you saw a blinking red light in the corner. How long have those bastards been recording you? The door opened and three burly men entered, encompassing you, awaiting the signal to begin.

You shut your eyes and tried to steady your breathing. You were no stranger to pain. This wasn’t even the first time you’ve been tortured. You can handle this. They will find you. You can handle this. You can handle this. You can ha—

Your mantra was interrupted by a sudden burning pain in your stomach as the stun gun was jammed into your ribs. It stole your breath away as your body convulsed. It stopped only long enough for you to take a breath before it started again. This time lasting longer. Your stomach lurched at the smell of your flesh burning.  They shocked you repeatedly; you lost count how many times. The burning pain became unbearable. You could barely catch your breath and dark spots began to coat your vision like splotches of ink until they overcame you completely and the pain faded into the background.

You awoke again some time later. You couldn’t tell if it was night or day. If it had been hours or days or weeks. You honestly didn’t know. What you did know is that you were cold and tired and in pain. Why weren’t they coming for you? Did they even know you were missing? Why would they? You told them to leave you alone and now look where you are. The flashing red light in the corner caught your attention again. Could they see you now? Or would they only know what happened after they had already killed you?  Your reverie was broken by the sounds of whispers just outside the door. A shiver ran up your spine and you braced yourself as best you could when the door swung open.

The onslaught began quickly this time, with no words being exchanged. The first blow landed on your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. More blows landed on your arms, thighs, and face. Your head hung weakly. You could barely comprehend the pain and yet it was all you knew. This was different from any other torture you’ve ever endured. They didn’t want information. They didn’t want anything other than pain and suffering and death. You felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness again; you welcomed the reprieve, but suddenly there was a new pain. The sharp pain of a knife sliding under your ribs, and it made you gasp. You wanted to scream but you couldn’t. No sound would come out as you opened your mouth, the pain stole the air from your lungs.

When they felt they had sufficiently beat you into a weakened enough state, they cut the ties that bound you to the chair and you hit the ground with a sickening thud. Your hands immediately found their way to the stab wound that was already trickling blood into your shirt. You pulled your knees closer to your chest in an attempt to relieve the pain and laid your head back against the cold, hard floor. Your vision swam as you looked in the direction of your attackers. You were barely holding on as it was when you saw a large boot appear in your vision. The kicked landed on the side of your head and you were out before you even realized what had happened.

 “This doesn’t make any sense. They should have given us demands or something by now. Anything!” Steve slammed his fist onto the table. It’s been 48 hours since you were taken.

“We reviewed the traffic cam footage and flagged the vehicle we think she was taken in. FRIDAY has been scanning everything in real time. When she gets a hit, she’ll let us know,” Tony offered.

Bucky didn’t say a word as he sat leaning forward in his chair, his head in his hands. He couldn’t help but assume the worst. He knew why there weren’t any demands. They already had what they wanted. He fucked up. He never should have let you leave the tower. Hell, you would have been better off going on that mission.  

Without warning, the various screens littered around the tower flickered to life. All of them playing the same video: you, being burned and beaten. Tears gathered in Bucky’s eyes. He couldn’t stand to watch you suffer, yet he couldn’t look away. You’re still alive.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “FRIDAY, find the source, now!”

“I’ve got it, boss. It’s coming from an abandoned business warehouse, 6 blocks from here.”

Bucky shot up from his seat with renewed hope. They weren’t able to trace the last video. Someone made a mistake. This must be it. He spared one last glance at the screen; at you, strapped to the same chair as 2 days before. He rushed out of the tower with Steve at his heels.

Bucky and Steve quietly approached the back entrance, finding a steel door with a padlock. Steve broke the lock with his shield. They’re not sure what they expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. There was nothing. It was a large empty room. It wasn’t even concrete as the video had depicted. Bucky’s heart sank. It was another dead end.

“No. No no no. She has to be here,” Bucky pleaded, his eyes desperately searching the room.

“Buck….I’m sorry.” Steve put his finger to the comm in his ear. “Tony..there’s nothing here. It’s empty.”

Keep looking. We’re still getting a signal from that location. There has to be something there.

Bucky and Steve exchanged glances before surveying the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. They were about to give up and head back to the tower when Steve took a step that sounded unusual, hollow. He kneeled down and gently tapped the floor with his knuckles. His eyes widened.

“Psstt. Buck- c’mere,” he whispered.

They were both kneeling now to examine the floor, finding a section of musty carpet that was ruffled up in one corner. They pulled back the entire section to reveal a wooden latched door with a sliver of light leaking through the cracks.

“Tony- we found something. Have medical on standby,” Steve ordered.

Already done. Keep me posted.

Bucky was breathing fast. He wanted nothing more than to rush down there, to find you and kill anyone who stood in his path. With a pointed look, Steve grounded him, and they lifted the door. They silently dropped to the floor below, taking in the cold, damp concrete and dank odor one would expect from a moldy basement. You had to be close. He prayed he wasn’t too late.

Everything happened very quickly. They were rushed by half a dozen men armed with assault rifles but even then, the guards didn’t stand a chance against the two pissed off and determined super-soldiers. With every enemy lying on the floor, Steve ordered Bucky to find you while he searched the rest of the basement.

It was a few minutes later that Bucky came across the room you were held in. With one swift motion, he kicked down the locked door. He scanned the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he spotted your form, eerily still, lying in the center of the room. He reached up and pulled the light on overhead, letting it swing as he dropped down next to you.

“Y/N? Come on, doll.” he reached down to rub his thumb across your lip where blood had dried and caked. You were cold. “Shit. Shit!” He gently moved you onto your back and this is when he saw the blood soaking into your shirt and leaving a puddle beneath you. His breath caught in his throat. With shaking hands, he put his fingers to the pulse point on your neck. When he felt a weak pulse, barely registering on his fingertips, he leaned down and held his ear close to your mouth. A soft whisper of a breath escaped your lips.

Bucky heard Steve’s footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He lifted your shirt to reveal the source of your bleeding. He pressed firmly down on the stab wound, but you didn’t even flinch. He recognized how concerning this was, how the pain from this alone should have elicited some kind of response from you, but you remained just as still as before.

“Oh God.” Steve knew you would be in bad shape, but he didn’t want to believe it would be this bad. You were so pale and still, like you were already gone. “Tony! We found her! We need EMS now!”

Already on the way, Cap. ETA 2 minutes.

Bucky scooped you up in his arms and they made their way to the surface, exiting the building to the waiting paramedics and helicopter.

 Bucky held your hand as they loaded you into the chopper and flew you to the trauma center. He heard voices around him but remained focused on you.

Looks like it missed any major vessels.

Multiple contusions across the abdomen and…these look like burns…

She’s bradycardic; give her a milligram of atropine.

Her pupils are sluggish…Prep for CT.

Sir, does she have any significant medical history?

Sir?

Bucky snapped out of his daze. “Uhh…she had a head injury…. a couple months ago. But she was cleared.”

Bucky was guided to the waiting room while the trauma team worked on you. You still hadn’t regained consciousness.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Hours had passed in the waiting room. Eventually, Bucky was joined by Steve.

“Heard anything yet?”

“No.”

A few moments passed before Steve spoke again. “It was an ex-SHIELD operative.”

“What?” Bucky turned his head to look at Steve.

“A couple of years ago, a mission went south. All the agents were killed. Except one, they never found the body. Turns out, he was captured and tortured by HYDRA.”

“I never heard about this.”

“I didn’t either. SHIELD must have swept it under the rug.”

“Why her?” Bucky’s voice shook with anger, his eyes red and glassy.

“Apparently, before he was captured, he sent a distress signal, but help never came. He adopted HYDRA’s ways with the intent of getting revenge on SHIELD, on us. He blames the Avengers for the deaths of his team.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. “Where is he now?”

“In SHIELD’s custody.”

“Steve- WHERE is he?”

“Buck….you don’t want to do this.” Steve tried to reason with his friend.

Just then, they were approached by a physician.

“She’s stable. There was internal damage, but we were able to repair it.”

Bucky let out a shuddered sigh of relief.

“However,” the physician continued, “it appears she suffered a traumatic brain injury.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew. Yet, hearing it out loud hit him even harder. “What- what does that mean?” He could feel Steve’s hand rest on his shoulder.

“We’re not sure yet. We’re still waiting for her to wake up.”

“How long will that take?” Desperation lingered in Bucky’s voice.

“We don’t know. We’re not sure if she will wake up. I’m sorry.” The doctor provided an apologetic smile and walked away.

Bucky collapsed back into the chair.

“Buck. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have let her leave the tower. I should have gone after her sooner. Fuck- I should have just let her go on that damn mission!”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man. This isn’t your fault.”  Steve tried to console him.

Bucky suddenly rose from his seat, pacing with panic. “I don’t know what to do, Steve. I don’t—” He finally broke down. His body trembled as tears streamed down his face.

“Let’s go see her.” Steve guided his friend to your room.

  Three weeks later and you were still in a coma. The doctors said if you weren’t awake by now, it was unlikely that you would ever wake up. But you were now breathing on your own. Your body had healed, and Bucky refused to give up on your mind. Another two weeks had passed, and Bucky still sat by your side, holding your hand. That evening, he sat by you, reading one of your favorite books to you when he heard you groan. He looked up at your face, seeing nothing had changed. He thought he had imagined it, but you did it again. He put the book down and brought his hand up to caress your face. Your eyes fluttered.

“Oh my God. Y/N? Can you hear me, baby?” He smiled for the first time in weeks.

You opened your eyes and blinked slowly several times, trying to focus.

“Y/N? Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Your eyes immediately shifted to Bucky.

“That’s it, baby! Oh my God.” He was overwhelmed with joy. He laughed, actually laughed.

“Bucky?” Your voice was weak, words slurred. You hadn’t spoken in weeks.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

The following day, you began physical therapy. It was exhausting, but you felt yourself getting stronger and making progress as the weeks passed.

Bucky never mentioned what happened and you never brought it up. He was so consumed with your recovery; you couldn’t find the right time to say anything about it. Until one day, your feelings just slipped out.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, after a particularly difficult therapy session.

Bucky was genuinely confused. “For what, doll?”

“You were right. I wasn’t ready to go on missions. I’m sorry I got so mad at you. I never should have left that day.” Tears gathered in your eyes. “If I hadn’t been so damn stubborn, you wouldn’t have to waste your time with..with this!” You motioned at your weaker form.

Bucky kneeled down in front of you, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Sweetheart, no. This isn’t your fault. I should have talked to you about my concerns, instead of going over your head about it.”

“I just hate feeling worthless and look where I am. Steve will never let me go on another mission again.” You clenched your fists and shook your head, frustrated that you got yourself in this situation once more.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. We’ll get through this. We always do.” Bucky embraced you, rubbing circles on your back.  “You’ll go on missions again. In fact, I think Steve is planning to personally accompany you on every single mission from here on out.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Between you and Steve, I won’t have to lift a finger,” you teased.

“Nope,” Bucky grinned proudly.

Your playful smile quickly faded as cynical thoughts intruded on your pleasant moment. Now they really don’t trust me. Won’t even let me go on missions without them. But Bucky seemed to read your mind.

“Don’t worry, doll. You’ll be doing solo missions in no time. We know you’re more than capable.”

“Yeah?” you asked, with hopeful eyes.

“Of course! You kick more ass than the rest of us. But I am curious about one thing…” Bucky baited with a smirk.

“What’s that?” you asked cautiously.

“How the hell did those thugs get the jump on you?” Bucky asked, his expression incredulous.

You closed your eyes and sighed. “They knocked on the door,” you admitted as quietly as possible.

“They what?!” He was almost laughing.

“I thought it was you,” you said more loudly, almost accusingly. “I was going to tell you off.”

Bucky shook his head, a wide smile plastered on his face as he attempted to stifle more laughter. Seeing Bucky like this ignited a fire in you. You wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face, but the joy he was emanating overtook you. Two can play this game and you liked playing this game with Bucky.

“Don’t worry, Buck. Next time I think I’m opening a door to you, I’ll take the ‘punch first, tell you off later’ approach.” Your eat-shit grin was now wider than Bucky’s.

He burst out with laughter, and you joined him.

Notes: I started working on this one a while ago and was suddenly inspired to finish it. Enjoy!

Word Count: over 3k

Warnings: Whump because it’s what I do, blood, injury, some angst, medical drama, some swearing (also because: me)

Summary: Carlos agrees to help TK with a charity event, but finds himself in the middle of a “mass” shooting. There will be whump and when you think the whump is done, there will be more.

Carlos briefly opened his eyes, squinting as they met the mid-morning Texas sun shining through the cracks in the blinds. He was completely exhausted. A few hours earlier, he had finished his 5th night shift this week. The overtime was mandatory, but he didn’t mind, as long as he had off to help TK with the annual AFD charity event tomorrow. He closed his eyes again and nestled further under the mound of pillows and blankets occupying his bed, allowing his thoughts to drift. He had every intention of getting several more hours of sleep, but he was suddenly struck with panic. Carlos’ eyes shot wide open. “SHIT!” Today’s not Friday. It’s Saturday. With all the extra hours he pulled this week, he completely lost track of what day it was. He grabbed his phone. 10:30. No messages from TK. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had 30 minutes before he was supposed to help set up the event.  TK was relying on him to pick up pamphlets from the printers across town. Carlos threw on a plain white tee and jeans before rushing out the door. He was only a few minutes late and TK either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Carlos let out an exhausted sigh as he sat the box of pamphlets on the table next to TK. The adrenaline from the morning rush was wearing off and fatigue was hitting him hard. “You okay?” TK asked as he studied the dark circles under Carlos’ eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” He managed to get out before stifling a yawn. “Are you sure? You look like shit.” TK cracked a smile as he reached out to squeeze Carlos’ hands. “Gee, thanks.” Carlos responded with an eye roll.  “I had to pick up another shift last night.” Their shifts hadn’t been matching up much the last couple of weeks so they caught up with each other as their schedules allowed. “Aw, babe, I’m sorry. I never should have asked you to help with—“ TK started. “TK. I told you I would help you with this weeks ago. I want to be here. I promise.” The corner of Carlos’ mouth curled up in that half-smile TK can’t resist. TK leaned in for a quick kiss before getting back to work. Carlos kept himself busy with whatever TK needed help with. The park was beginning to fill with people and even though Carlos wasn’t as mentally sharp as he’d like to be, the interactions were enough to keep his eyes open.  The temperature was peaking, and TK left to grab a couple of drinks from a vendor a few booths down.  Carlos took this opportunity to find a chair and close his eyes for just a few seconds. That’s when he heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots, followed by screaming. His blood ran cold. He couldn’t see TK. Where was TK? His police training kicked in as he took cover and unholstered his off-duty pistol. He frantically scanned the crowds of terrified people as they scattered, not knowing which direction to run. Eventually, his eyes focused on what he was praying he wouldn’t find: a victim. She was lying face down on the ground and Carlos couldn’t tell if she was breathing. He needed to get closer. With a final scan of the field, he was about to run towards the injured woman when he spotted TK, ducked behind a display. Before he could even fully process that TK was alive and well, Carlos watched as TK bolted towards the woman, followed by Tommy rushing in from a different direction. He silently cursed them for having no regard for their own personal safety, but knew deep down, they were doing their jobs, same as him. He ran as quickly as he could towards TK. He reached them within a few seconds, his eyes making contact with TK’s for a moment brief enough to watch the relief wash over TK’s face at knowing he was okay, before scanning the area again for the shooter. “I don’t like this. We’re out in the open. Can she be moved?”. The words rushed out of Carlos’ mouth as Tommy and TK continued to assess the woman. TK and Tommy exchanged glances before Tommy made the call. “Let’s do it. Quick and easy.” TK hooked his arms under the woman’s shoulders while Tommy grabbed her legs. Carlos watched as they made a beeline from the open field to take cover behind a food truck. What Carlos didn’t realize was that the gunman had been watching him. He stayed low to the ground as he moved, eyes searching the park, as more gunshots echoed through the air. He couldn’t tell where they were coming from. There were so many people running and screaming, he didn’t know where to focus his attention. Then he heard a noise that didn’t fit the chaos that had unfolded. It was a voice. Calm and assertive. “Think you’re better than me.”, followed by an unhinged bout of laughter. Just as quickly as he heard the voice, a chill ran through him and he turned his body to face it, gun taking aim. Everything happened within a few seconds, though it felt like time had slowed. Carlos spotted the shooter emerging from the crowd several meters away, his rifle pointed directly at him. Fuck. He started to squeeze the trigger when he heard the other man’s weapon discharge with a loud and violent bang. The large caliber bullet struck Carlos in the right side of his chest with enough to force to knock him off his feet. His pain-filled howl was cut short as his back slammed hard into the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Carlos took a ragged breath, trying to gather his strength. He stretched out his arm, weakly dancing his fingers through the grass trying to find his gun, to no avail. Panic rose in his chest. Carlos knew the gunman would be on him at any moment. Dizziness washed over him as he struggled to take in each breath, straining his neck and arching his back in an attempt to fill his lungs.  He was starting to feel very tired when his attention was drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps approaching him. This is it. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings, been more alert. Maybe if he had, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t be laying here, with a bullet hole in his chest, waiting for the shooter to come finish the job. He couldn’t move, didn’t have the strength. He closed his eyes, willing himself to accept his fate. “Carlos? ……CARLOS!” That voice…is….familiar. But Carlos couldn’t find the strength to open his eyes. He felt himself slipping further away. “Shit….Tommy!” TK? That’s TK. “Carlos! Baby, open your eyes!” A sudden grinding pain on his sternum pulled him to the surface, compelling his eyes to open as he curled his arms into his chest, a groan escaping his throat. “Carlos! Look at me, baby. I need you to stay awake.” “TK…” Carlos managed only a whisper. Why was it so hard to breathe? Something happened, but he couldn’t quite remember the details. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his blurring vision.  Hands placed an oxygen mask over his face. His mouth felt dry, and he thought he tasted something metallic in the back of his throat. A dull, aching pain in the background was instantly given his full attention as TK applied more pressure to the wound on his chest. The now searing pain seemed to shoot across his chest and down his side.  A groan emerged from Carlos’ throat, and he clenched his jaw as tears slid down the side of his face, disappearing into his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. I know it hurts-just breathe, okay? You’re going to be okay.” TK’s voice cracked at those last words. “RA is two minutes out.” A different voice, but also familiar. Tommy? Carlos’ eyes slowly searched his field of vision until they landed on Tommy. Then he noticed the blue tourniquet on his arm. Tommy was inserting an IV into the crook of his left elbow. He couldn’t feel it, which might have concerned him if he had the strength to care…… “Hey. Hey! Keep your eyes open!” TK urged, tapping his cheek. Carlos opened his glassy eyes ever so slightly. He didn’t realize he closed them. He’s tired. He’s cold. His chest hurts. He can’t breathe. HE CAN’T BREATHE. If breathing was hard before, it felt impossible now.  A wet cough forced its way out of his lungs, splattering the oxygen mask with blood, staining his teeth and lips. As the edges of his vision darkened, he glanced up at TK, selfishly admiring his blue-green eyes. If these were his final moments, he wanted TK to know how much he loves him. “TK…I…-“, he started. Carlos couldn’t get the rest of the words out before his vision became black and he slipped into unconsciousness. —————————————————————————————————————————————— TK kept one hand firmly pressed to the wound on Carlos’ chest and reached to grab the bandage scissors from Tommy’s jump bag. Several ambulances and police units arrived at once. A couple of paramedics that TK didn’t recognize came rushing to his side. “Take over pressure,” TK instructed. As he prepared to cut Carlos’ shirt open, he noticed his hands were trembling. He hesitated at the sight of Carlos’ blood covering his hands and soaking through his white t-shirt, the stark contrast only accentuating the growing patch of red.  He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to vomit. He forced himself to finish cutting open Carlos’ shirt when— “TK….I…-“ TK looked up at Carlos’ face and gazed into his beautiful, brown eyes. Eyes that, then, unexpectedly, became unfocused and vacant. “Carlos? Carlos?!?” He’s not breathing, TK realized. “He’s not breathing!” TK immediately placed his fingers on Carlos’ neck. “Still has a pulse, but it’s thready.” Tommy had already positioned herself at Carlos’ head. She gently lifted his chin and opened his mouth, using the laryngoscope to visualize the tube advancing down his throat. Another paramedic connected the Ambu bag and began breathing for him. Meanwhile, TK was connecting the LifePak leads to Carlos’ chest. “He’s tachycardic…lost too much blood.  BP is 86/52. He’s in shock. Bolus the fluids. Cap, we need to go now!” They rolled Carlos onto his side long enough to slide the backboard in place. By that time, the other paramedic had come back with the gurney. “On my count,” Tommy started. “One-two-three.” They quickly made their way into the back of the ambulance. It was only when the doors closed and they started moving, that TK felt the gravity of the situation come crashing down on him. He didn’t realize tears were already streaming down his face when a sob ripped from his chest. Tommy put her hand on his knee to comfort him as she methodically squeezed the bag, watching the rise and fall of Carlos’ chest. They sat in distressed silence, eyes flicking between Carlos and the heart monitor. TK was the first to notice the sudden spike in Carlos’ heart rate. He looked down and saw Carlos blinking his eyes open, the confusion painted across his features, turning to fear. —————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— Carlos was dreaming, he thinks. But he can’t remember what he was dreaming about. It felt like random memories coming together, but not making any sense. All he can focus on now is this incessant beeping. He feels drawn to it, somehow, and as he gets closer to this sound, he becomes more aware of other things. He feels a strange sensation in his chest and there’s something in his mouth- no- his throat. Carlos pries his eyes open. He doesn’t recognize where he is. His legs and chest are strapped down and he can’t move. He becomes painfully more aware of something stuck in his throat. He feels like he’s choking. He wildly brought his hands to his mouth, fumbling desperately to remove whatever he was choking on. He, then, felt someone grab his wrists and hold his hands down. His eyes flickered upward and he realized it was TK. “Carlos! Baby, you gotta calm down. You stopped breathing so we had to intubate you.” Stopped breathing? What the fuck? What happened? Carlos tried to search his memories, but came up empty. He suddenly noticed a funny feeling in his chest and his eyelids felt very heavy, then…..nothing. ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— “Carlos? You still with me?” TK prompted. But Carlos gave no indication that he heard him. The Lifepak monitor began to alarm, startling TK. “He’s in V-tach! Lost a pulse. TK- start compressions!” Tommy ordered, as the ambulance stopped at the entrance of the emergency department and the back doors swung open. TK quickly jumped onto the gurney, straddling Carlos, breathlessly counting to himself as he continued chest compressions. A tear escaped down his cheek as he felt one of Carlos’ ribs crack under his hands. He didn’t dare stop or ease up as they rolled through the doors of the ER. “What have you got?” “28 year old male, off duty APD, at the park shooting. Through and through GSW to his right upper chest from a large caliber rifle. BP was 90/56. We had to intubate in the field and he went into v-tach as soon as we arrived.” TK hopped off the gurney so the trauma team could take over. Tommy guided him to an empty hall, just in time for TK’s knees to give out. He reached out his hand and caught himself, crashing into the wall and sliding down to the floor. That is where he stayed, sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. Tommy kneeled down beside him, rubbing small circles in his back. “Carlos is strong, TK. He’s going to make it.” Tommy affirmed, silent tears now gathering in her eyes. TK didn’t look up at her to notice. He felt himself disconnecting as he stared at the blood starting to dry on his hands. ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— Several hours later, TK found himself shifting uncomfortably in a plastic chair. He glanced up at Carlos, who lay motionless in a bed in the intensive care unit, still intubated, still unconscious. The doctor had left a few hours ago, but TK couldn’t help replaying the words in his mind over and over again.         We were able to shock his heart back into sinus rhythm and the surgery went well. He did lose         a lot of blood; he’s stable for now, but still in critical condition. TK reached out and held Carlos’ hand, giving it a squeeze and praying for a response. He got none. He studied the features of his face. His skin was pale, lips dry. There were still spots of dried blood on his neck and ear. TK shuddered as he remembered the feeling of Carlos’ blood slipping between his fingers, the way his eyes went blank and the feeling of breaking his ribs as he tried to pump blood through his body. Carlos was able to be extubated the following morning, the intrusive tube being replaced by a nasal cannula. TK refused to leave Carlos’ side for longer than a few minutes at a time. He eventually drifted off to sleep the following afternoon, resting his head on the bed, but it didn’t last long as he was awoken by the harsh sound of someone gasping for air. __________________________________________________________________________________ Carlos first became aware of a dull pain. It was quiet. He tried to open his eyes, focusing all his energy on this formerly simple task. He first glanced down at his chest, the source of his pain, noticing it was covered in bandages, stickers and wires. He shifted slightly, but abruptly stopped when this caused pain to flare in his ribs. His eyes drifted to the IVs in his arms before falling to TK’s sleeping form by his legs. Oh, shit. He recognized that he was in a hospital, but he had no recollection of how he got here. Regardless, he worried about TK. How long must he have been here to have TK sleeping at his side like this? Feeling slightly more alert, he reached out a hand to run his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. TK stirred at the touch but didn’t wake. Carlos gently cleared his throat, preparing to speak, but found he couldn’t get the words out. The dull pain in his chest quickly became a sharp, stabbing pain and he found himself feeling short of breath. He removed his hand from TK’s hair and brought it to his chest, trying to rub the pain away. Carlos took a sudden sharp breath in that caused TK to wake and turn his head to him with wide eyes. At the same time, the monitor beside his bed began to alarm. TK looked at Carlos, whose brows were furrowed. His eyes gazing forward but were hazy. Looking at the monitor, TK saw the oxygen saturation dropping. 94……90….87….84…….

“Carlos?! Baby! Tell me what’s going on! Are you having chest pain?”

Carlos snapped his eyes to TK’s and weakly nodded before adding, “…can’t….breathe…” It was barely a whisper. The room was suddenly flooded with nurses and doctors, and when TK turned his head back to Carlos, he saw his eyes start to close as his head fell back against the pillow, his arms laying limply by his sides.

TK was guided to the hallway as Carlos was worked on. He stepped back until his back hit the wall and he slid down, pulling up his knees and resting his head between them. He knew Carlos wasn’t out of the woods yet, but it felt like this nightmare would never end. He balled his shaking hands into fists, gripping the hair on the back of his head. He’s not sure how he stayed in that spot when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

The following day, Carlos opened his eyes again. This time, TK was awake and watching him.

“What happened?” Carlos croaked.

“Which time?” TK challenged playfully, a half-hearted smile hanging from his face. He was met with confused eyes.

“Babe…you scared the hell out of me.” TK dropped his head slightly and sighed before continuing.

“We were at the AFD charity event and there was a shooter. You were shot in the chest and…um…you almost died. I got to you, but then you, uh, stopped breathing and..um…then you arrested on the way to the hospital…..God, Carlos, I thought I was going to lose you..” TK choked back a sob.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos offered and squeezed TK’s hand.

TK laughed lightly through his tears. “Did you just apologize for almost dying?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he breathed, closing his eyes to rest for a moment.

When TK was sure Carlos was still conscious, he continued. “That was a few days ago. But, um, yesterday….your lung collapsed again. So you are the owner of a brand new chest tube.” He tried to smile.

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“Uh, yeah, but they’re okay. It was only 2 others. We actually have you to thank for that.”

Carlos turned his head to look at TK. “What do you mean?”

TK paused a moment, considering how to resume. “Apparently, you were able to fire a round just before you were shot. It hit him center chest. He was pronounced at the scene.”

TK watched as Carlos’ face shifted from confusion to disbelief to remorse, his eyes darting back and forth, remembering. No officer ever wants to have to take a life. Carlos could suddenly feel the grip of his pistol in his hand, the slight kickback after squeezing the trigger, the air rushing out of his lungs when he hit the ground. The panic. The fear. The taste of blood. The pain. It all came back to him at once.

“Who…..who was he?” Although, Carlos didn’t think the answer would make him feel any better.

“He was ex-military. Applied to the APD, but was turned down after failing the psych eval. Turns out, he was dishonorably discharged from the army…..Babe..this could have been so much worse. He was out for blood, targeting officers. One of the other wounded was also an off-duty officer and the other just got caught in the crossfire.”

“How did he- if we weren’t in uniform?” Carlos hoped he understood what he was trying to say.

“They think he was scoping out the station, after they rejected him. He had been planning this for a while.” TK frowned as he thought about how much worse this could have turned out.

“Oh my God..” Carlos couldn’t get a grip on his emotions. He was glad everyone was okay; he was glad there weren’t more people injured and no one was killed, but wait. That’s not true. Someone was killed. He killed someone. Someone is dead because of him.

TK could see him spiraling. He knew exactly what Carlos was thinking and it broke his heart to see him struggle.

“Hey, Carlos…no. Look at me. Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t have a choice, okay? He was going to kill you and so many more people if you hadn’t stopped him. You did what you had to do, what you were trained to do.”

(This is my first ever fanfic. I hope you enjoy!)

- Over 6K words

Content: swearing, hurt/comfort, fluff, OC (Y/N), Bucky Barnes

Summary: A recent mission turns out some unexpected results, and you end up a little (alot) worse for wear.  

**Please do not repost my work**

You reluctantly trudged into the meeting room of the Avenger’s compound for yet another briefing on yet another mission. You loved being an Avenger, but you were tired. You had literally just gotten off the Quinjet from your last mission and were still wearing your tac suit. Your last mission was supposed to be an easy extraction. A simple grab-and-go of a HYDRA operative for intel. The “one day” mission turned into a week and ended with enemy blood on your suit and seaweed in your boots, among other places. You weren’t normally one to complain, but damnit, you could use a shower and a decent meal.

Haphazardly, you flopped into one of the chairs, propped your elbow on the table and rested your chin in your hand. You puffed out your cheeks and forcefully exhaled, as if, somehow, that would lessen your fatigue. At the head of the table, Steve smiled politely as he waited for you to settle. Across from you, however, Bucky stared at you, unimpressed with your apparent tardiness. Your stare shifted awkwardly between super-soldiers as you tried to rub the soreness out of your neck.

“So nice of you to join us,” Bucky remarked sarcastically.

You glared back at him, clearly not in the mood for his bullshit right now. And you sure as hell don’t have the energy to entertain it with a comeback.

“So, now that we’re all here…” Steve began formally, “we received intel on an abandoned HYDRA base that we believe house the files we’ve been looking for—”

“What about the asshole I just grabbed?” You interrupted, “I’m sure he can provide whatever information you need. And besides, I just got back. I’m tired and I’m dying for a sho—”

“Y/N, we need this. No one else is available.” Steve was using his Captain America voice now. “It’ll be a quick in-and-out, but we need to move now before they realize their info was leaked.”

You stared into Steve’s hardened gaze for a moment, searching for any sign that he might budge on this. Unfortunately, you found nothing.

You sighed. “Ok. Fine. When do we leave?”

“Meet Bucky on the jet in 20.” And with that, Steve left the room, leaving you with your thoughts.

Fuck. Maybe if you hurry, you’ll have time to shower and change your suit.  You stood up suddenly, not even noticing how Bucky was already standing by the door, scowling at you.

“You better hurry, princess. Don’t expect me to wait around for you again.”

“What the fuck is your problem, Barnes?” You spat at him.

“Me? I don’t have a problem.” He feigned indifference.

“Then why are you acting like a dick?!”  This isn’t the first time you and Bucky had been at each other’s throats. You were relatively new to the Avengers team, but you were far from incompetent. You trained hard, maybe even harder than everyone else, because you knew you needed to, to keep up with super soldiers, highly trained assassins, and expert marksmen. You feel you have proved yourself time and time again in the field, yet it never seemed good enough for Bucky Barnes.

Bucky was in your face now, mere inches away, and he was pissed. Oh shit. Maybe you went a little too far with the ‘dick’ comment.

“Maybe I wouldn’t act like a dick if you weren’t such a stuck-up, self-entitled bitch!”

Nope. No. You didn’t take it too far. You regret nothing now. You could feel your blood start to boil, your fists clenching at your sides. You know better than to try to take on a super soldier and, truth be told, you didn’t want to fight Bucky, not really. You liked him, probably more than you should. Even if you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. But, damn, he was really pissing you off today.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I work my ass off and I don’t ask for anything from anyone!” You huffed, chest heaving with anger.

Clearly, he had struck a nerve and as he seemed to notice this, a devilish grin spread across his face. He leaned in even closer and suddenly you were anxious, the anger in your features fading into unease. Is he doing this on purpose, trying to make you nervous? You stare relentlessly into his pale blue eyes, daring yourself to hold your ground, when all you wanted to do was melt into a puddle. Damn it, Y/N! Focus! He is an asshole and you are angry. Don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his l—FUCK! You looked at his lips. You know he noticed; he misses nothing.  You averted your eyes and abruptly turned towards the door, your back turned to Bucky, desperately trying to find the rage that was long gone at this point.

Bucky straightened his posture and exaggeratedly inhaled, flaring his nostrils.

“Oh, and Y/N? You fucking stink.” His features twisted, resembling something close to disgust. “Maybe take a shower once in a while.”

Ah, there it is. You welcomed back the rage with open arms. It helped you focus.

You whipped your head around, irritation seeping from your pores. You scowled at him with the intention to kill, if looks could do it. But as much as you wanted to punch that stupid smirk off his ridiculously beautiful face, you didn’t have the time.

“Fuck you, Barnes!” And with that, you stormed out of the conference room to prepare for the mission.

Bucky watched as you angrily marched to your room, his eyes lit with a sense of accomplish, before slowly settling into a haze of uncertainty.

  Fueled by the rage brought on by your less than pleasant interaction with Bucky, you showered quickly, silently cursing the steel-blue eyed super-soldier and his fucking attitude. You started to feel small hints of insecurities formed by Bucky’s words, but quickly pushed them aside. You weren’t going to allow yourself to spiral like that. Not right now. By the time you had donned a clean tac suit and gathered your weapons of choice, you had resolved to not let his comments bother you. After all, you were far too tired to waste the energy on this any longer. Your plan was to sit as far away from Bucky as you could on the jet, read the file and, if you had time, squeeze in a quick nap before you land. You tightened your thigh holster and slipped the blade into place before sprinting to the jet.

As you climbed up the ramp, you glanced at your watch. One minute to spare. Ha! Take that, tin man! Of course, Bucky was already at the controls, adjusting the coordinates for auto-pilot. Without sparing another glance in his direction, you grabbed a file from the bench and tucked yourself into a corner. You started to skim through the information, but fatigue hit you full force and you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You didn’t realize that you fell asleep until you were startled awake by the sound of the file you were holding crashing to the ground. Your eyes shot open wide and you leaned over to pick up the folder, looking over at Bucky, who was now sitting across from you a few seats down. You sighed, waiting for the inevitable smart-ass remark Bucky was sure to make, but nothing was ever spoken. He simply looked at you in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before. What was it? Was it concern, maybe? Compassion? Curiosity? After a second, you tore your tired eyes away from him and looked at your watch. It had only been 30 minutes. You still have a few hours of the flight left. With that thought, you placed the file on the floor and slid down on your side, nestling into the seat. In a matter of seconds, you were asleep.

 You were awoken by the sensation of the jet descending to land. Your head felt foggy, and your mouth was dryer than the Sahara.  You winced as you attempted to swallow, feeling like your throat was lined with razor blades. You sat up slowly, your head spinning from the change in position. Fuck. Fucking fuck. You knew exactly what this was. This was Karma coming back to bite you in the ass for that time you put salt in Bucky’s lemonade instead of sugar. It was hilarious at the time. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to gather yourself and align your thoughts with the mission. It’s just a two mile walk to the car. Easy. Then a 40-minute drive to the base. Break in, find the files, get out and get back to the jet. With a final jolt, the jet landed, and Bucky appeared from the cockpit.  You stood up quickly, briefly using the wall to steady yourself, and began gathering your things. You didn’t want Bucky to catch on to the fact that you were getting sick. You can practically hear him making some comment about slowing him down or expecting special treatment and you weren’t having any of it. You always work hard, pulling your own weight and you weren’t about to let a little cold stop you from doing your job.

You threw your bag over your shoulder and headed for the ramp, trying to avoid looking at Bucky. You were still kind of pissed about what he said earlier and—oh no- --aahh choo! You sneezed: not once, not twice, but three times. You froze, turning your head slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of Bucky, feeling like you’d been made. He was staring at you impassively. You paused, trying to decide if you should say something, attempt to maintain the illusion of perfect health, but your sass came out instead.

“What? No smartass comment?” You prompted, sounding congested. Damnit, Y/N. Should’ve kept your mouth shut.

A crooked smile crept onto his face. “No, not at all. I was going to ask if you were allergic to hard work, but we didn’t actually do anything yet so…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, debating on throwing one of your knives at his head, but he would just deflect it. Suddenly, malaise hit you like a freight train, and you lost your resolve, really starting to feel like shit. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, trying to push the feeling aside, but you couldn’t shake it. No longer wanting to linger around Bucky, you turned to slowly walk down the ramp, trying to reserve whatever energy had left. You didn’t even look behind you to see if Bucky was following you as began walking in the direction of the car that was waiting a couple miles away. One step at time. Just get to the car.

Bucky followed you down the ramp, taking note of the sudden drop in your mood. He stayed in step with your pace, realizing you were walking much slower than normal, especially for being angry. Although, he had noticed the fire leave your eyes back on the ramp. “Hey,” he gently called out to you. You didn’t answer him. “Y/N,” a little louder. Still no answer. He quickened his stride to stand in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from moving forward. You widened your eyes at the abrupt halt, an obvious look of surprise on your face. Confused, you looked down at his hand on your left shoulder and he quickly dropped his hands, worried he may have a crossed a boundary. You looked back up to his face, taking in his furrowed brow, his sincere eyes, before moving down to his perfectly plump lips. His mouth was moving, but you didn’t hear what he said.

“What?” you asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

“I’ve been calling your name. You didn’t answer me. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We can take a break if you—”

“NO! No..I said I’m fine, Barnes. Let’s go.” There was no way you were going to show any sign of weakness, especially in front of Bucky. You’d never hear the end of it. He let out a sigh as you pushed past him and kept walking.

When you reached the car, Bucky grabbed the key from under the wheel well as you dropped down into the passenger seat. Bucky was surprised when you didn’t insist on driving. You normally would and then make some comment about chauvinism. He smiled at the thought. As he approached the driver’s side door, he paused and leaned down into the window to look at you. You were leaning back on the head rest and your eyes were closed. Bucky studied your form for a moment, admiring your toned legs, evident even through your tac suit, trailing up to your smooth belly, smiling at your delicate hands, fingers meshed as they rested in your lap. His eyes were slowly traveling upwards when you suddenly let out a small whine, quickly drawing his attention to your face. It was then he noticed how flush your face was. Your cheeks were a striking scarlet and harsh against your paling complexion.

He opened the car door, startling you. You straightened up and kept your eyes trained out the windshield. Your hand gingerly rubbed the back of your neck, desperate to be rid of the soreness from your previous mission. After a moment, you realized Bucky was looking at you, but you were afraid to turn towards him. It was getting harder and harder to keep up this charade. You just wanted to get this mission over with and get back home to your warm, comfy bed.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

You closed your eyes, put on your best poker face, and shifted in your seat to face him. When you opened your eyes again, you saw nothing but concern etched on his face. Of course. He’s worried you’re going to screw up this mission. He picked up on the fact that you’re a little under the weather and now he must think you can’t get the job done.

“Are you okay?”

“Barnes- will you stop asking me that? I’m fine.”

“Your cheeks are red.” He reached his flesh hand up towards your forehead, but you instinctually leaned back, avoiding his touch, afraid to let your guard down and reveal how terrible you were actually feeling. He frowned and dropped his hand.

“Yeah, well. It’s cold and windy.”

“Not that cold.” He challenged you, voice saturated with unease.

“Says the super-soldier.”

His eyes searched your face, willing you to open up to him. After a moment, he resigned, turning his eyes to the road and starting the car. Feeling temporarily off the hook, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked out the window, your mind trying to make sense of how differently Bucky was acting. He had never really acted like he cared before and you weren’t sure what it all meant. Fatigue eventually won you over and you drifted off to sleep. Bucky glanced over at you as he drove, noticing the change in your breathing, signaling you had fallen asleep. He fought the urge to reach out and touch you, thinking about how you avoided his touch earlier. He was worried about you. Something is clearly going on with you, though he can’t really blame you for not confiding in him. He’s been an absolute dick, especially lately. He doesn’t understand why he acts this way. He doesn’t hate you, not at all. But acting like he hates you is easier than dealing with his real feelings towards you.

Bucky parks the car a few hundred yards from the abandoned HYDRA base and looks you over once more. Your cheeks are still red, dark circles hung under your eyes and he now noticed small beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. He softly called your name and gently nudged your arm with his elbow to wake you.

You slowly opened your eyes and tried to reorient yourself. You looked at Bucky. He gave you a small smile and slight nod before exiting the car to gather his gear. You took note of the headache now throbbing behind your eyes and the new tightness in your chest. Something about this just didn’t feel right. You’ve never gotten this sick this quickly before. What the hell is going on? You carefully stepped out of the car and leaned against it, fighting off the dizziness and wave of nausea that followed. Thankfully, Bucky didn’t notice. Except that he did. You didn’t realize he was watching you as you paused to regain your bearings. You gathered your strength and joined Bucky at the trunk of the car to grab your weapons, just in case.

After checking your pistol, you holstered it and quickly pulled your hair back into a ponytail. Bucky’s eyes widened as they immediately land on the back of your neck.

“What the hell is that? Are you hurt?” He urged, stepping closer to you.

“What?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was asking.

“Your neck.” He moved even closer to you, reaching his arms out to the collar of your suit. You turned to face him, feeling self-conscious, not wanting to expose any part of yourself, but he wasn’t going to drop this. “Just…. let me look. Please.”

You stared into his pale blue eyes, laced with trepidation. Bucky is normally so calm and collected. It unnerved you to see this degree of concern. You turned around, giving him permission. He gently pulled your collar down further to reveal a large circular bruise, varying shades of purple and black sitting right above the base of your neck. And in the middle of the circle, a small drop of dried blood.

“Y/N, what the hell happened on your last mission?”

“What do you mean? What is it?” The worry inside you starting to grow.

“There’s a huge bruise…and blood. What happened?”

“I---” You thought hard. “I don’t know. We went to grab some HYDRA douchebag at one of their medical facilities. There were more guards than what we anticipated. I mean, I got hit, but it wasn’t that bad- didn’t even knock me down.” You turned to face Bucky again. “What’s going on?”

Bucky’s face relaxed slightly. Either he wasn’t that worried after all or he was putting on a mask for your benefit. “You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” He pressed once again.

“Yeah….let’s get the damn files already.” The desperation to get home was beginning to overwhelm you. You started heading for the base, but Bucky grabbed your arm.

“You would tell me if something was bothering you, right? If something was wrong?”

You locked eyes with him again. You didn’t want to lie to him, but you didn’t want to look incompetent and weak either. “Yeah, of course, Barnes. Let’s go.” A look lingered on his face that told you he didn’t believe you. You pushed forward anyway.

The abandoned base was not so abandoned, but it wasn’t anything you and Bucky couldn’t handle. The base wasn’t huge, but you insisted on splitting up to get out of there faster. Bucky took the hallway to the left and you took the right. After taking down your sixth guard, you felt winded and your chest tightened even further. You pressed your hand to the center of your chest, trying to calm your breathing. What the fuck. This wasn’t like you at all, but here you were, struggling to keep up with the onslaught of HYDRA trash. You jogged down the hall and after a few minutes, stumbled upon a computer room.

“I think I found it,” you breathlessly muttered into the comms.

“I’ll be right there.” You heard the sound of gunshots echoing through the hall.

You pulled the flash drive out of your front pocket and inserted it into the computer. You tried to bypass their firewalls, but your head was pounding and you could barely concentrate. Something is very wrong here. Before you could put any more thought into it, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and pulled your knife from your thigh holster. Thankfully, it was just Bucky. You had no idea he had entered the room and you internally reprimanded yourself for not noticing. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief as you put your knife away. He quickly looked you over for injuries, noticing that you were drenched in sweat as you ran your sleeve across your forehead. You blinked your eyes several times, refocused yourself and began uploading the content onto the drive, while Bucky paced the room, keeping a lookout.

“Got it.” The files finally finished uploading and you pulled the drive and placed it back into your pocket.  You followed Bucky into the hallway and pulled your gun from the holster, preparing for any remaining HYDRA agents. You searched and cleared each room and were almost out of the building when a sudden chill ran up your spine making you shiver. You unwillingly slowed your pace, and your hands began to shake. You looked down at your hands and back up at Bucky who was now several steps ahead of you. A devastating surge of dizziness overpowered you and you stumbled, falling into the wall in an effort to keep yourself standing. Oh shit. Oh shit. Shit. Your vision blurred and blackness began to creep into the edges.

“Bucky…..” you called out weakly, barely managing a whisper. You couldn’t see him clearly. You didn’t know if he heard you or if he even realized you had stopped. “Bucky?” you said a little louder, desperation coating your voice.

Bucky turned to see you, several feet back, leaning against a wall, the color drained from your face. “Y/N? Fuck!” He ran back, reaching you just as you fell to your hands and knees. He cupped your face in his hands, guiding you to look at him, as you tried to lean your back against the wall.

“Talk to me, doll. What’s going on? Are you hurt?” He frantically ran his eyes over you, fearing he missed something before.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “I- I don’t know.” Your breathing was uneven and shakey now. “I haven’t felt right since I got back from that mission. I thought it was just a cold or something, but this is worse. So much worse. I’ve never felt this bad before.” Your eyes stung with tears, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. To hell with being strong, you felt like you were dying. You opened your eyes, tears spilling over and running down your cheeks. You fisted your hands in your hair, feeling like your head was about to split open. Your lungs burned with every breath, your arms and legs ached down to the bone, feeling heavier and weaker by the minute. A sob broke out from your chest. Bucky ran his hand over your forehead and rested it on the back of your neck. You were burning up. Then Bucky remembered the strange circular bruise he saw on your earlier.

Immediately, Bucky pulled out his phone. You tried to remain calm, slow your breathing and clear your vision, but it wasn’t working, and you were so tired. You just wanted to close your eyes and sleep. The sound of Bucky’s worried voice broke through your thoughts.

“Steve? We have a problem. There’s something wrong with Y/N……I don’t know! She’s sick-- it happened fast—her last mission, what was it?.......Fuck! Why didn’t you tell her?!.........Steve, I think-I think they injected her with something. There’s a mark on her neck…..Fuck! Okay…..got it.” He put his phone away and looked down at your face again. Your eyes were closed and your head drifted down. “Hey, hey- open your eyes! Sweetheart, you gotta look at me.” He gently tapped your cheek and lifted your chin. You painfully lifted your eyelids, just enough to comply with his command. “We gotta go. Stay awake.”  

He slid his arms underneath your shoulders and thighs with ease, gently hugging you to his chest to steady you as he took off down the hall and out of the building. Before you could even register what was happening, Bucky was placing you into the passenger side of the car.

“Bucky…..what’s…..what’s going on?” You were so confused and tired.

“We think you were injected with something on your last mission. Some kind of biological weapon HYDRA was working on. That’s why you were sent to grab that scientist, to find out what they were doing.”

You could feel tears gathering in your eyes again.  “Why didn’t they tell me?”

“They didn’t know, not until they interrogated the scientist you brought in.”

A small whimper escaped your lips as you brought your knees up to your chest, curling in yourself. You were sweating profusely but felt like you were sitting in ice as you began to shake violently from the chills racking your body. Bucky reached out to you, this time without hesitation, and placed his hand on your back to rub comforting circles.

“You’re gonna be okay. Just hang on, doll. We’re almost to the jet.” Bucky tried to stay calm for your sake, but inside, he was screaming. They didn’t know what this was or if there was anything they could do to stop it. He was afraid of losing you.

Bucky drove and parked the car closer to the jet than he should have but fuck the plan and fuck protocol. No one was following you and he needed to get you back to the compound as soon as possible. You managed to stay awake and opened the car door, attempting to stand on shaking legs. You took a step forward but didn’t have the strength to remain standing. Your knees buckled underneath you and you fell, crashing into Bucky’s chest as he rounded the car to help you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled weakly.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He scooped you up into his arms again and carried you onto the jet, laying you down on the seat.  He disappeared into the cockpit and set the controls, before returning to your trembling figure. Silent tears slid down your cheek and vanished into your hair. You curled in on yourself even further. You squirmed in the seat and let out a small whimper; you were in so much pain. Your muscles spasmed painfully as chills continued to rack your body. Your breaths came short and fast, your chest feeling more constricted. Through all this you could feel your energy dwindling, Bucky’s heart was breaking, watching you suffer so immensely and not being able to do anything about it. He sat down beside you and lifted your head to lay it in his lap. He stroked your hair, brushing strands out of your face as you continued to shake.

You hadn’t spoken in a while. Bucky could tell that you were losing strength. You were giving up. He needed to keep you focused on something, anything.

“Doll, I—” then his phone rang. He stood slowly, gently placing your head back on the seat before answering.

“Steve?.......she’s, uh…..she’s not good, man……she’s burning up and she can’t stop shaking. I….” He turned his back to you, whispering now. “I think she’s giving up……okay…we’ll land in 20 minutes…… Right.” He ended the call. With his back still turned to you, Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked back tears that were threatening his eyes.

“Bucky?”

Bucky whipped his head around, surprised to see you sitting up, but you looked worse. Your expression was blank, eyes vacant, and you began to sway. You didn’t feel right, but this was different. Your head was spinning, and you swallowed thickly, trying to keep yourself from getting sick.  

“I don’t --”

Bucky took a hurried step toward you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you collapsed onto the floor of the jet.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Bucky was on his knees at your side, rolling you onto your back. He tried to shake you awake, but you weren’t responding. He watched your chest, relieved to see you were still breathing, though your shallow breaths were barely visible. He placed his fingers to your neck, finding a weak pulse.

“Come on, doll! I need you to wake up. Come on.” He pleaded with you, but you couldn’t hear him.  He stayed with you, only leaving your side to land the jet. He carried you down the ramp, running to the medical team that was waiting just outside, placing you on the gurney. Steve was waiting there too.

“What happened?” Steve demanded information as he and Bucky followed the medical team rushing you into the compound.

“I don’t know. She was acting different. She didn’t look well, kept falling asleep. I saw that bruise on her neck.” Bucky nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “Then we were leaving the base and she got dizzy, couldn’t walk, and started shaking. She was shaking so bad.” Steve could tell Bucky was struggling to keep it together and rested his hand on his shoulder. “She passed out right before we landed. I couldn’t get her to wake up…I- I should have said something sooner. I should have called off the mission the second I knew something wasn’t right.” Bucky took a deep breath and rubbed his palms into his eyes.

“It’s okay, pal. You couldn’t have known. You got her here. The doctors will figure it out.” Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky sat in the chair beside your bed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You were still unconscious. You wore an oxygen mask and IVs in both arms. As much as it pained Bucky to see you this way, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. After intense persuasion from Captain America, the HYDRA scientist had revealed an antiviral treatment. They started the treatment a few hours after you had arrived back at the compound. That was a couple days ago, and you had yet to wake up. The doctors had told Bucky your fever was dangerously high, and they weren’t sure how it was going to affect your brain. A tear ran down his cheek as guilt continued to consume him. He knew something was wrong at the start of the mission and because he had acted like a dick and said such mean things to you, you didn’t feel like you could confide in him. Now, you were laying in this hospital bed with the potential to never recover.

On the third day, you opened your eyes. Bucky was resting his head on the side of your bed. You reached your hand up, trying to grasp the oxygen mask that rested over your face. This startled Bucky and he jumped up, gently wrapping his hands around your wrists and bringing them to your sides.

“Hey- hey. You gotta leave that on, doll.” A huge smile spread across his face. He thought he would never see your beautiful eyes again.  As quickly as his smile came, it faded, as he registered the lingering confusion on your face. He realized that you might not be the same person you were a few days ago. The doctor’s words swirled in his head. Potential brain damage. Memory issues. Physical disabilities. The truth is, they just didn’t know and now that you were awake, Bucky was facing the harsh reality of the situation. Your breaths came in short and rushed. Bucky saw the confusion in your eyes morph into fear, a few tears escaping the brims.

“Bucky….” Your voice cracked.

He breathed a huge sigh of relief. You knew him. He sat back down, holding your hands in his.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He brushed your tears away with his thumb before taking your hand back in his. “Do you remember what happened?”

Your eyes darted back and forth, looking for memories that weren’t coming. You shook your head faintly.

Bucky swallowed hard, preparing himself to recount the events of the past few days.

“We were on a mission and….you got sick.  HYDRA had injected you with a new virus. Something they designed. You got hit on a previous mission but didn’t realize what they had done. None of us did. But we found out about a treatment and you’re okay now. You’re safe.”

The memories suddenly flooded back to you, realization casting a shadow on your face.

“I thought I was going to die…” you remembered.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I knew something wasn’t right from the beginning and I should have ended the mission right then. Maybe if I had, it wouldn’t have been so bad. “

You looked up at him with incredulity. “Bucky, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault. I should have said something, but I was too stubborn. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it, that I was weak.”

“Because I was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, you were” the corner of your mouth curved up into a half smile and Bucky chuckled. You still had your spark. “….but why?”

Bucky was silent for several moments. “Because I like you. But I don’t deserve to have someone like you. I thought if I said enough hateful things, it would help me keep my distance, convince myself that I don’t have these feelings.”

You were silent, unsure of how to respond. Then you realized that Bucky was holding your hands, as he brought the back of your hand up to place a gentle kiss there.

“Bucky….” You began and he chuckled. “What?”

“You always called me Barnes. You never called me Bucky until….you got sick.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized you had dropped the façade. “I guess I just got tired of pretending that….that I don’t like you. But I do…..like you….A LOT.” You felt your cheeks growing red with embarrassment. There’s no going back now.

You hesitantly looked at Bucky and couldn’t help but smile. He wore the biggest smile you have ever seen.

____________________________________________________________________________________

The next day, you had recovered enough to be discharged from the medical wing. You insisted you could walk back to your room, waving away the nurse when he brought a wheelchair. You sat on the edge of your hospital bed, struggling to pull on your shoes. You had already managed your sweatpants, t-shirt, and socks, but even just that left you exhausted. You were feeling much better, but your body still ached, and fatigue seemed to find you quickly with even the smallest of tasks. Fuck it. You don’t need shoes. You huffed in frustration, weakly throwing your sneakers across the room. When you looked up, you noticed Bucky entering your room, twisting slightly to dodge the footwear assault.

He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise before realization settled onto his face. “You okay?” He asked gently before picking your sneakers up off the floor.  He calmly kneeled in front of you, slipping your shoes on each foot, with ease. At first, you couldn’t answer, your eyes avoiding him and the situation.

“I just hate this….I can’t even put on my damn shoes.” You felt defeated. And tired. Really fucking tired.

Bucky, still kneeling in front of you, lifted your chin with one finger, so your eyes were level with his.

“Y/N, you almost died a few days ago. Cut yourself some slack. Your strength will return, and you’ll be kicking ass again in no time.” His mouth curved into a soothing smile. You nodded your head, still feeling displeased with yourself. “You ready?” he continued, offering his hand.

You took his hand, gripping tightly as he helped you stand. The walk back to your private room in the compound was slow and tortuous. You had to take several breaks, but Bucky was more than patient. He was understanding and compassionate. You wished you had the chance to know this Bucky long before now. He was being sweet, and you were really enjoying it.

You were extremely relieved when your bed came into view. Bucky helped you into it, seeing the exhaustion taking over. He left the bedroom without saying a word, and you felt the panic rise in your chest. For the first time, you really felt his absence. You didn’t want to be alone. You felt tears prick at your eyes and you settled back against your pillow, trying to keep your tears at bay. Then you heard the closing of a cupboard door and Bucky reappeared, holding a glass of water and some Tylenol.  Bucky looked you over, settling on your glassy eyes.  

His eyes narrowed. “Hey, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?” He moved to place the glass and pills on the nightstand next your bed. He brought his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of your face as he sat on the edge of your bed.

You softly shook your head. “I thought you left.” You admitted.

He stayed quiet, considering what you said, his hand coming to rest behind your head. “Did you want me to leave?” He looked heartbroken.

You didn’t want him to leave, ever.  But you weren’t sure how to say that without sounding completely pathetic. You always tried to keep up with your tough exterior and you were uncomfortable with all this vulnerability you had been showing lately. When you didn’t say anything, Bucky stood and headed for the door.

“Bucky- wait!” You panicked at the thought of actually being alone this time. “I don’t want to be alone. Please…will you stay with me?”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you.

The genuine smile on his face, warmed you in a way you had never felt before. You moved over in the bed, pulling back the cover, inviting Bucky to lay with you. He pulled off his boots and slid into the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. You had never felt safer than you had at this moment. It almost surprised you with ‘at home’ you feel in his arms.

“Bucky?” you whispered. “Thank you for being there for me.” You weren’t just talking about today.