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It was supposed to be a simple first mission as a team– investigate an abandoned SERPENT base, and make sure it stayed inactive. Bucky and Torres would go inside while Sam did an aerial sweep of the building, meanwhile Yelena, Kate, and Barton waited in the van in case things went south or some SERPENT members came poking around. Their celestial heavy hitters– Carol and Kamala– had taken Billy elsewhere. Something about trying a more magical approach to try and find Rambeau. Not that they really needed the three of them– they didn’t even really need the trio in the van, but Yelena and Kate whined something about FOMO and Barton begrudgingly agreed to keep an eye on them. After all, this was supposed to be a simple mission, and simple missions usually meant boring missions.
Keywords here being “supposed to.” Bucky would’ve complained about it to Sam if the comms had been up. But the comms were down– turned out the abandoned SERPENT base was not so abandoned. The place was crawling with SERPENT members, and Torres ran off on his own right around the same time the comms went out. Sam was gonna kill Bucky if something happened to that kid on his watch. He made his way through countless lackeys with brutal efficiency, determined to find that damn kid and wring his neck himself if some SERPENT goon didn’t beat him to it.
Torres was slumped against the wall when Bucky caught up to him, blood trickling down the side of his head beneath his visor and a dumbass smirk on his face. One of the goons they had been chasing was sprawled against the ground in front of him.
“The hell happened to you?” Bucky asked gruffly, looking Torres over for any other injuries as he helped him off the wall and over the incapacitated thug.
“You should see the other guy,” Torres chuckled, swaying a bit against Bucky.
And all of a sudden, it was Steve leaning on Bucky for support, breath wheezing as Bucky helped him out of yet another back alley in Brooklyn.
“Buck?” a voice asked, and the nickname was right but the voice was wrong–
“Don’t– what–” Bucky managed to get out, arm tightening around the shoulders of the person beside him.
That earned him a slight yelp. “Hey– take it easy, you’re okay– we’re on a mission, taking care of some SERPENT lackeys, remember?”
Bucky blinked, and he was back in the warehouse SERPENT was using as a base of operations. Torres was beside him, mildly injured and eyes wide with slight panic. Bucky slung Torres’s arm across his shoulders and helped him down the hall without another word.
“Hey– listen, you alright? You looked like you went away for a second there,” Torres pressed, brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m not going Winter Soldier on you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bucky replied brusquely.
Torres huffed out an irritated breath, the sound of it rattling slightly. “Not what I meant, Buck.”
“Don’t call me that. And you’re not fooling me, I can hear how shaky your breathing is right now,” Bucky said, adjusting his grip on Torres to get them moving a little faster. The sooner they got out of the warehouse, the better.
“Nah, pretty sure that’s because of a bruised rib or something, actually. And Sam calls you that, so–”
“Yeah? Well Sam doesn’t go flying off the handle during a mission, and he’s known me longer,” Bucky snapped.
Dammit. When did he start talking about Sam the way he did about Steve, exactly?
Torres laughed. “We talking about the same Sam? And don’t lie, you know I’m growing on you.”
“Like a fungus, maybe,” Bucky muttered.
“What can I say, I am a fun guy,” Torres said, damn near giggling.
“Jesus. How hard did that guy hit you, kid?” Bucky grumbled, but there was something lighter to it now.
Torres didn’t respond, other than a sudden hitched breath and a slight stumble as he gripped Bucky’s shoulder tighter. His other hand grabbed at his side, face tight with pain. Bucky immediately halted them, replacing Torres’s hand with his own metal one to gently feel along his side. Torres yelped, jerking away from the touch slightly.
“Did you have to use the metal one?” he whined.
“Relax, I barely touched you. And that’s definitely broken, not just bruised,” Bucky said, adjusting his hold on Torres again before getting them moving once more.
“Can you even feel anything with that arm?” Torres asked, tone genuinely curious instead of the biting judgement Bucky was used to whenever anyone else asked about the arm.
“Kinda. I can sorta tell the temperature or texture of things, but it’s not like I really feel it. Scared the shit out of Sam once when I took something out of the oven without an oven mitt, just the arm,” Bucky said dryly.
Torres all but cackled. “Oh my god– I can absolutely see the face he would’ve made–”
“Are you two gonna keep being gossiping hens about me or are we gonna finish this?” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms. A rush of relief flooded through Bucky– Sam finally managed to undo whatever SERPENT had done to their comms. Now he wouldn’t be alone with Torres’s rambling… or at least, that was the reasoning Bucky gave himself for his sudden feeling of relief. It definitely wasn’t because having no way of knowing if Sam, the kid, or the team waiting in the van were alright set him on edge. Definitely not.
“On our way out now. Torres got his ass beat again,” Bucky replied, ignoring the squawk of protest beside him.
“He ran off on you, didn’t he?” Sam asked, unmistakable fondness in his tone.
“I’m right here, y’know,” Torres grumbled.
“Honestly kind of impressive that he got ahead of me. Stupid, but impressive,” Bucky commented.
“I got the bad guy, didn’t I?” Torres protested, although Bucky didn’t miss the way the kid’s eyes lit up from the (albeit backhanded) compliment he gave him.
“Yeah, and you got at least one broken rib and probably a concussion. Who are you trying to impress here, exactly?” Bucky reprimanded with a shake of his head.
Torres opened his mouth like he was going to say something– then quickly snapped it shut, deciding against it. Huh. Bucky didn’t know he could do that– have forethought before saying something dumb. Kid must’ve been worse off than he thought.
“Ant-Man isn’t here, y’know. You can stop doing reckless shit to show off,” Sam teased. His tone was lighthearted, but Bucky didn’t need to see Sam to know that his mouth had settled into a firm line of concern.
“Ha ha, very funny–” Torres started, but was cut off by the building suddenly beginning to shake, concrete dust gently raining down on them.
“Sam?” Bucky asked, voice terse.
“That wasn’t me,” Sam replied, voice more tense than Bucky would have liked. If Sam was nervous… this wasn’t good.
“Cap, we’ve got multiple hostiles incoming– thought you said this place was abandoned?!” Barton’s voice came through the comms.
“Least something’s actually happening now,” Kate muttered, and Bucky could hear the distant shrill whistle of an arrow firing over the comms.
“Redwing, gimme a scan of the building, what’s–”
“Allow me to elucidate, Captain,” a cool, smug voice crooned over the comms.
“Sidewinder?! How the hell did you–”
“Break out of prison? Hack your comms? All good questions– but I have a question for you, Captain. Who will you choose to save: your partner and your protégé, or your meager menagerie of ‘Avengers?’”
Bucky never heard Sam’s answer. Because just as Sidewinder finished his taunt, the building shuddered again. And on instinct, Bucky shoved Torres away– just as the ceiling caved in on top of him.
Consciousness came back to Joaquín in waves. He coughed on ash and dust from the debris, the sound morphing into a pained groan as he quickly realized he had a lot more than a broken rib now. His eyes fluttered open as he took heaving, labored breaths. He glanced around, taking in the ruined building around him– and noticed he was alone.
“Bucky?” he wheezed out, scrambling to his feet despite his injuries screaming in protest. His right arm in particular was aching something awful– but he shoved the feeling aside. He had to find Bucky.
The sound of rubble shifting answered Joaquín, and he rushed to the source of the sound. The familiar glint of vibranium and the dust-covered mop of brown hair peeking out from beneath the rubble just about sent Joaquín to his knees in relief– or maybe that was the exhaustion.
“Buck– Bucky? Can you hear me?” Joaquín asked, crouching beside Bucky and starting to clear the rubble that was least likely to cause more of the building to collapse. He ignored how his arms, shoulders– well, his everything, really– ached, stubbornly determined to get Bucky out. Joaquín also found himself trying to get some of the dust out of Bucky’s hair as well, for some inexplicable reason.
Joaquín was so focused on trying to help Bucky that he almost didn’t hear the rapidly approaching footsteps– almost. He flared out his wings with a panicked gasp, shielding both himself and Bucky from what was sure to be an onslaught of SERPENT members ready to finish them off…
“And you think I’m a mother hen?” a voice teased, strained with an undercurrent of equal parts worry and relief.
Joaquín withdrew his wings, sagging in relief. “Sam.”
Hearing Sam’s name got Bucky moving slightly, groaning as he lifted his head with what seemed to be a monumental effort. His eyes were hazy and unfocused as they blinked open, but a slight smile crept over his face when he spotted Sam. “Made sure Baby Falcon didn’t get squished.”
“You’re an idiot,” Joaquín managed to get out, voice mildly hysterical.
“You took the words right outta my mouth. Redwing, give me a scan of this mess– how do we get Bucky out?” Sam said, tapping at his gauntlet as Redwing began to hover beside him.
“Sam, I dunno if–” Bucky’s voice cut off with a pained gasp as he shifted slightly. It was then that Joaquín noticed just how pale and clammy Bucky’s skin was– as well as the slowly growing pool of red that had been revealed by some of the rubble Joaquín had managed to clear.
Joaquín heard a sharp intake of breath from Sam as Redwing completed its scan, and Joaquín tapped into Redwing’s feed on his own HUD to take a look. Joaquín’s stomach turned a little as he saw what Redwing had found– in the midst of the rocky rubble, there was a metal pole that was likely originally part of the building’s support beams. And it had gotten embedded in the ground– right through Bucky’s abdomen.
“Buck–”
“Sam, get the kid out of here. The building can’t hold itself up forever,” Bucky said, sounding strangely lucid for a guy with a metal pole in his stomach.
“Hell no. I’m getting you both out,” Sam snapped, starting to clear aside some of the rubble from Redwing’s directions. Joaquín tried his best to help, but his movements were admittedly sluggish compared to Sam’s adrenaline-rush induced need to help.
“Sam–”
“Get it through your thick cyborg skull– I’m getting you out of this,” Sam interrupted him with a mighty heave of a particularly large chunk of rubble.
Between the two of them, Sam and Joaquín managed to get enough of the rubble cleared so that Bucky’s wound was visible. Joaquín felt a little like he was going to be sick again now that he was actually seeing the metal pole, and had to abruptly turn away.
“See? Kid agrees. Lost cause over here,” Bucky said sardonically.
“I was pararescue and you’re a super soldier. You’ll live. And if you don’t, I’m gonna have Billy bring you back to life with his magic so I can kill you myself,” Sam huffed as he scrutinized the metal pole.
“Pretty sure his magic doesn’t work like that. Besides as former pararescue, you should know this isn’t gonna work. This thing is pretty firmly stuck in the ground. And I’m gonna start bleeding out if you manage to get me off of it,” Bucky pointed out.
“Good thing the cavalry's here then, right?” a voice piped up. Joaquín glanced away from the seemingly hopeless situation to see Clint jogging up to them, Yelena and Kate close behind him.
“Oh good, more people are in the structurally unsound building,” Bucky muttered.
Sam’s shoulders sagged in relief for a nearly imperceptible moment– Joaquín would have missed it entirely if he hadn’t known Sam so well. But then his posture straightened again, back in leader mode. “Clint, glad you and the others are alright, sorry I couldn’t–”
Clint waved him off. “You had to get your boys, we had those goons handled.”
“The van exploded, Barton,” Yelena huffed.
“Yeah, with a bunch of SERPENT guys in it. Goons: handled,” Clint replied dismissively. “Kate, how about you get Joaquín out of here and wait for Carol and the rest with the Quinjet– Yelena and I can help Cap with Bucky.”
“You called Carol? And how come you’re the one giving out orders?” Sam asked with a huff.
“You basically made me co-leader when you put me in charge of Kate and Yelena– now what rubble is not gonna bring the whole place down on top of us?” Clint asked, and the two of them dissolved into talking rubble-moving strategy while Yelena listened.
Joaquín was listening too, fully intending on helping as well– until Kate came up beside him, slinging his arm over her shoulders much like Bucky had with him before. Joaquín opened his mouth to protest, but Kate beat him to it.
“You looked like you were gonna fall over at any second, c’mon,” she said, tugging him away from the group.
“But–” Joaquín’s protest died on his tongue as he gave one last helpless glance at the trio crowded around Bucky, working together to get him as free as possible.
“They’ve got him– Bucky’ll be okay. He’s gotta be,” Kate said softly.
Joaquín turned his head to look at Kate with the sudden shift in her voice, and saw that she was just as worried as he was. Joaquín swallowed nervously, but gave a firm nod. Kate gently squeezed his shoulder in response. With that, the fight left him, and Joaquín let Kate lead him out.
Sam was doing his best not to panic. At least, not visibly. He wasn't sure if it was really working– Clint and Yelena had definitely noticed, what with Clint being so quick to leap into action and give directions. Fortunately neither of them commented on it, just helped Sam go through the motions.
By the time they were able to clear the rubble, they received word that Carol had arrived with the Quinjet and much needed medical supplies. All that was left was to get Bucky to the jet, and everything would be fine. It had to be– Sam didn’t want to consider the alternative.
Getting the metal rod out of Bucky turned out to be easier than expected. Have Redwing slice the top off with its laser, and ease Bucky up and off of what remained.
It was everything after that passed by in a panicked blur.
Staunch the bleeding. Scoop Bucky up into his arms. Ignore Bucky’s “see, you don’t need the serum” quip. Immediately panic as a shaky puff of breath hit his neck as Bucky’s head lolled onto his shoulder, because what if Bucky just said his last words and Sam ignored them–
Somehow, they made it onto the Quinjet, and Bucky still has a pulse. Faint, but steady.
If Sam wasn’t going through the motions before, he definitely was now as he patched Bucky up the best he could before they could get him proper help at the compound.
He found himself staring at his hands after the fact, transfixed by the blood staining his gloves. He almost didn’t realize he had frozen in place until Clint gently guided him by the forearms to take a seat near Bucky’s prone form.
The movement snapped Sam out of it, and his head shot up to look at Clint. “Joaquín–”
“Is fine. Kate and I took care of him. He got lucky– concussion, few broken ribs, and right arm’s sprained at the very least. And it’s hard to find a spot on the kid that isn’t bruised to hell. But nothing a little rest won’t fix,” Clint assured him.
Sam let out an amused breath through his nose. “Good luck getting that kid to stay put and actually rest.”
“Takes after you, Cap,” Clint teased, plopping himself next to Sam with a tired groan.
Sam rolled his eyes, before eyeing Clint with concern. “How about you? Kate, Yelena?”
“All good. Maybe a few scrapes here and there, but I think the team’s mostly just exhausted at this point. You?” Clint replied, regarding Sam with the same amount of concern that Sam had given him.
“Think ‘exhausted’ barely begins to cover it. But I’m alright,” Sam assured him, tipping his head back with a heavy sigh.
“Rest up a little, Sam. I can keep an eye on Bucky until we land,” Clint said softly.
Sam let out a strained laugh. “Don’t know if I could sleep, despite how bone-tired I feel.”
“Then just close your eyes and pretend. It’s what I do,” Clint said with a shrug.
That surprised more of a real laugh out of Sam. “That’s depressing, man.”
“I meant that more in the way of what I do when I don’t want my kids pestering me, but that’s fair too,” Clint chuckled.
“Oh, so y’all are my kids and I’m ignoring you now?” Sam shot back with a grin.
“I think I’m more like the cool uncle, but sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Clint shrugged.
“Yeah, that’s not exactly helping my inability to sleep right now,” Sam said, shaking his head in fond exasperation.
“You could probably sleep if you quit yapping,” Clint huffed, then froze with mild embarrassment.
Sam snorted. “Yapping?!”
“Been hanging out with the newbies too much,” Clint muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
Sam chuckled, then let out a long sigh. Despite everything, he felt his eyelids drooping a bit. Maybe he should give the whole “pretending” thing a try.
He barely registered Clint patting his knee with the reassurance that he’d wake him up when they landed or if anything happened before that before he drifted off.
Bucky wasn’t expecting to wake up. The last thing he remembered was Sam carrying him before everything went dark. And honestly? Bucky was fine going out that way. Got one last rib in on Sam and everything. And Torres was okay too. Presumably.
But yet, here Bucky was, sluggishly blinking awake in the Avengers compound infirmary. His stomach was a dull pain now, but he was sure it would come in full force once he woke up a little bit more. In the meantime, he took in his surroundings, gaze sliding to his left– and sure enough, there was Sam.
“You lucid?” Sam asked, something Bucky didn’t quite recognize wavering in his expression.
“Think so. Why, did I babble nonsense while I was out?” Bucky asked, voice hoarse from disuse.
“Just wanted to make sure you remember me lecturing your dumb ass,” Sam snapped– and now Bucky could pinpoint Sam’s expression. A horrible cocktail of anger, worry, and fear, all poorly masked by snarky indifference.
“Sam–”
“You don’t get to pull that self-sacrificial bullshit on me, Buck. You really think I was just gonna leave you there?” Sam cut him off, fuming.
“Like you wouldn’t’ve been saying the same things if roles were reversed,” Bucky scoffed.
Sam’s jaw set. “This ain’t about me.”
“I made a call, Sam. One you were too stubborn to make,” Bucky snapped, although there was admittedly very little bite to it with how tired Bucky was.
“That stubbornness saved you. Show a little gratitude,” Sam huffed.
“I could if my would-be savior wasn’t yelling at me,” Bucky said, voice a little more petulant than he meant it to be.
Sam rolled his eyes. “I just– we’re a team, Buck. Hard to be a team if one of us is constantly throwing himself into shit and trying to get himself killed.”
“Tell that to Torres,” Bucky scoffed, then froze. “Shit. Torres, is he–”
“He’s fine. Thanks to you, apparently. Says you shoved him out of the way when the ceiling was coming down?” Sam said with a raised eyebrow.
Bucky winced a little, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes.. “Figured I could take the hit better than he could. Besides, you… you already almost lost him once. Wasn’t gonna let that happen again.”
“You– and what, I’m just supposed to be fine with losing you?” Sam managed to get out, voice more raw and honest than Bucky had ever heard it before. But Bucky still can’t get himself to look at him.
“Kid’s got more of a future ahead of him. I’m not about to rob him of that,” Bucky said softly.
“I could’ve lost both of you today. And you’re out here trying to rationalize why it would be better to lose one over the other?!” Sam snapped, and the brittle frailty in his voice is what finally got Bucky to look at him. And immediately Bucky felt awful. Because Sam looked terrified, and it was all his fault.
Bucky’s hand slid across the bed towards Sam, almost against his will. Maybe he should get it looked at, its mechanisms probably got damaged in the cave-in. But Sam immediately rested his hand over Bucky’s, thumb idly smoothing over the cold metal.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you did. Keeping him safe,” Sam said softly, gaze focused on his hand over Bucky’s for a few moments before he looked him in the eyes again. “But I don’t want it to be at the cost of your life.”
“I… okay. Understood, Cap,” Bucky said, smiling softly. And Bucky knew he couldn’t make that kind of promise, not with the kind of lives they lived. But he’d be damned if he didn’t give it a try.