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Chapter Text

Field Report #038

Title: The Thing Was Big, Okay?

Filed by: U.S. Agent John Walker

Mission Classification: Recon (turned Assault)

Team Lead: Rep. James B. Barnes ( still weird, btw )

Date: [REDACTED]

Status: Complete (ish)

Per Barnes’ orders, a recon op was approved. That’s your first problem right there.

Mission parameters included “light tracking” and “observe only.” We all know how that went.

Enemy was approximately 9 feet tall, over 300 lbs, and made of pure rage. Felt personally targeted.

I used a grenade responsibly. You're welcome.

Team status report:

• Yelena: unconscious, definitely got hurt.
  
  

• Bucky: flung like a sack of potatoes.
  
  

• Alexei: flattened, probably fine.
  
  

• Ava: unflappable. Annoying.
   

• Bob: did Bob things from the tower.
  
  

10/10 team effort. Would not recommend.

In their initial briefing of the mission, someone suggested that only a couple of them really needed to be there since it was more of a tracking mission. They didn’t need to engage with the enemy as long as the enemy didn’t engage them.

For some reason, everyone thought that was a fine idea – except Bucky, who insisted that the rest of the team at least wait as backup in case things really did go south… Poor guy was still trying to get everyone to figure out how to work as a team, John could tell. The congressman didn’t like the idea of everyone being split up.

It was settled.

Three of them were backup while the other two were tracking down members of this alleged Hydra copy (Bob was back at the Watchtower doing Bob things). The two eventually found themselves navigating their way through a maze of underground, abandoned subway tunnels, while the other three kept tabs on them as best as they could.

Yelena and Bucky would go and track them down through the crazy tunnels. John thought it was weird that Bucky wanted to go with instead of having Ava, quite literally one of the most stealthy of the team and codenamed “Ghost” for a reason, do her thing and be sneaky, but that was the “team captain’s” idea. He respected Bucky, he really did, but it was still a really weird decision in John’s opinion.

John, Ava, and Alexei watched from their mini base of operations as Bucky and Yelena’s trackers made their way through the tunnels. They would check in occasionally to keep the rest of them updated on what was happening and if they’d found who they were looking for.

They definitely found someone.

Multiple someones.

What could be considered as too many someones, in John’s opinion. Too many for it to continue being a stealth mission.

After what seemed like forever waiting for something to happen, John decided Bucky might have some super ability to see into the future, because in what world would a super soldier need to go on a stealth mission unless they ran into trouble of the super soldier kind?

And that they did…

Yelena and Bucky didn’t seem all that worried about running into a group of people in the beginning, but John could tell, as the fighting went on and on, that the two were starting to get overwhelmed. Just before he decided to take action with the other two and head to their aid, Yelena shouted through the comms that they needed backup.

John was ready to go in an instant.

Leading the way for the others through the tunnels, John, Alexei, and Ava eventually heard the sounds of gunfire and heavy hits echoing around them.

A bone-shaking roar reverberated through the tunnels, stopping John dead in his tracks for a moment before he decided to pick up the pace, ultimately leaving Alexei and Ava behind.

He had expected a fight between himself, the rest of the team, and whatever run-of-the-mill super soldier this random, evil, wannabe Hydra group would most likely attempt to attack them with. Maybe he had been too relaxed and thought it would be a piece of cake, considering the team already had three super soldiers of their own. Taking down another would be no problem.

Unless that “super soldier” was mutated and bordering on becoming the Hulk.

John skidded to a halt as the tunnel opened up into a fairly large room with brick lining the walls, the gravel beneath his feet scattering and stopping his momentum, as he saw the scene in front of him. 

Enemy grunts were unmoving, scattered around the room where Yelena and Bucky had presumably taken them out. Electricity arced dangerously across several panels along walls and consoles around the room. But what really caught John’s attention was a giant, mutated monster man fighting his two teammates. 

He arrived just in time to see Bucky attempt to throw a punch, just for the mutated guy to grab it and use it to fling Bucky across the room.

Yelena let out a yelp at the sight and proceeded to unload her mag into what should’ve been different weak spots on the guy.

The mutant tanked them, and it only made him angrier at the Russian.

It started lumbering towards Yelena, building up speed as it drew nearer. John couldn’t understand why she wasn’t getting out of the way like she normally would, but quickly noticed the gash on her leg. While John knew that wouldn’t usually stop Yelena from being able to move, something else must have been wrong.

Wrong enough to stop her from moving out of the way in time.

John reacted faster, sprinting full speed at the mutated man and throwing his taco shield directly at its head. Thankfully, that stopped it in its tracks, and John knew he had to draw its attention to help Yelena with whatever problem she had going on, which definitely wasn’t helping.

“Hey, ugly!” John called out, right before slamming directly into the thing, attempting to tackle it to the ground. Unfortunately for him, the mutant only stumbled, not falling to the ground. John paused what he was trying to do and looked up at its face. “Pick on someone your own size?” 

It was easily at least a foot or two taller than him. 

He quickly pulled away from the thing and moved to pick up the shield. Idiot, John thought to himself, Look what you just got yourself into. Bucky probably could’ve handled it! At that thought, he turned to see where Bucky had landed and noticed the man was slowly pushing himself up from the ground. 

He didn’t look good.

John turned his attention back to the thing and raised his taco-shaped shield (thanks, Bob) and pulled out his gun. Before he made a move, he heard gravel crunch rapidly behind him. Deciding not to turn his body away from the mutant, he tilted his head to the side so he could see the newcomers in his peripheral vision.

Alexei and Ava.

“Nice of you two slowpokes to finally show up. Now we can all get our asses beat together,” John said, turning back toward the mutant. He noticed that it was observing them, its head twitching back and forth almost like a dog tilting its head when it hears different sounds, and John really hoped it wasn’t capable of complex human thought. A mutant man like that, who could also strategize, would spell disaster for the rest of the team.

“Sorry, not all of us have superspeed, Walker,” Ava replied from behind him. John could hear the eye-rolling in her voice.

“You should try it sometime,” he started, rolling his shoulders to get ready to fight the thing, which hadn’t mindlessly attacked them yet, and that worried John. “It can be pretty useful.

Ava scoffed, walking up next to him. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time we’re sprinting our way through tunnels.” She jerked her head toward the mutant, “What’s up with that thing?”

John let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and lowered his shoulders. “Oh, you know, tossed Bucky aside like he was a piece of trash going straight into the can, and for some reason, Yelena doesn’t seem all here…you might wanna check on her. I’m sure the Communist and I can handle this thing.”

He hadn’t known the rest of his team for very long, but they had a way of talking to each other that, for the most part, didn’t make John want to burst his eardrums. Ava and Yelena were always good to have banter with, especially on missions. It brought him a sense of comfort that he would never tell them about, but it was good.

The others were alright too, he supposed. It was hard to speak with Bucky sometimes, but at least they weren’t at each other's throats…most of the time. And Alexei was Alexei. He was entertaining. That was certain.

Then there was Bob.

John honestly wasn’t super sure what their dynamic was yet. The kid was still recovering and recuperating from the whole “Void” incident in New York. He lives with them in the Watchtower, but doesn’t go on missions – he does the dishes sometimes, though.

Shaking his head in an attempt to focus on the situation at hand, John nodded at the Red Guardian. “You ready? He’s kinda tough.”

Alexei let out a boisterous laugh. “Nothing the Thunderbolts can’t handle, ah? Right, former Mr. Captain America?”

“You’ve gotta stop calling us that, man,” John replied with an exasperated sigh.

As if it had heard them, the mutant suddenly stopped pacing and turned its attention toward them. Its head tilted to the side, muscles tensing, eyes locking directly onto John, not with recognition, but with intensity. Challenge.

John could practically feel it sizing him up. Maybe it remembered the hit he landed earlier. Maybe it could sense strength. Either way, something in its posture shifted, like a predator locking onto the threat that hurt it the most.

“Shit,” John muttered, instinctively lifting his shield.

The creature let out a guttural roar and charged.

John barely jumped out of the way in time, rolling across the gravel and readying himself to counterattack. Something felt wrong deep in his gut – off-balance and clawing at the edge of his instincts – but he couldn’t tell what.

He just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Jumping out of the way just in time, John rolled across the gravel and prepped himself to throw his shield at the mutant’s head. Before he was all the way up, he heard someone call out.

“She passed out!”

He whipped his head toward Ava’s voice and saw her with Yelena’s head in her lap. Yelena looked as though she was in pain while unconscious. 

That wasn’t good. None of this was.

Thankfully, John watched as Bucky scrambled up, crunching broken glass and other materials under his boots, as he rushed over to where the two women were. Once he slid to a stop next to them, that gave John’s brain the permission it needed to focus back on the mutant. Bucky had it handled. Everything would be fine. 

John quickly turned back toward where the mutant was charging at Alexei…who was also charging right back at it!

Before he could shout a warning about how strong the mutant was, the impact the mutant’s arm made against the Red Guardian, sending the Russian rolling into the gravel, shocked John into action.

John was a lot of things to a lot of different people.

Most people considered him a certified asshole, jerk, and terrible father (which still stung every time one of his teammates brought it up in arguments), but he could also be considered persistent and, oftentimes, a selfish man with a savior complex. 

His team was down and otherwise occupied, most likely injured or unconscious, but he was still standing.

He would say he had a lack of self-preservation, but he’d already made it this far. 

The U.S. Agent threw his shield as hard as he could, bouncing it off the mutated man, knocking the creature slightly off balance, and catching his shield when it returned to him, and shouted.

“Hey Junior Varsity Hulk–” nailed it “ –You call that strong? I’ve seen interns who punch harder than you!” He called out, hoping to have the mutant focus on him. It seemed like it worked as the creature started stalking towards him, gravel crunching under its feet, as it slowly sped up. 

“Walker! What are you doing?” He heard Bucky shout from off to the side.

“Don’t worry, Barnes! Just get Yelena out of here!” he called out. John started walking backwards so he was still facing the mutant and steeled himself, muttering under his breath, “Follow me, you giant idiot.”

Once the mutated man started running at him, he turned and took off through the tunnels, looking back occasionally to make sure the beast was still following him. “That’s right, off-brand! Is that as fast as you can go?!”

The mutated man let out a grating roar that almost felt like taking an ice pick to the skull, in John’s opinion. It made him wince as he kept running. Yay, free lobotomy! He couldn’t help but think. Maybe if he got one of those, people might think he wasn’t so bad, or something.

All John could hear as he sprinted through the tunnels, weaving through them randomly enough that he ended up losing track of where he was going, was the sound of gravel crunching beneath his own boots and the monster's feet, along with both their labored breaths. Not like John got winded very easily, but slight panic began running through his system as he realized what he’d done.

Sure, he distracted the thing that was hurting his teammates long enough for them to hopefully get out of there, but that meant all of the creature's focus was on him . John may have been a super soldier, and a damn good one at that, but he felt earlier just how strong the mutant man was, and he wasn’t sure if he could beat it himself. 

Usually, he was all for being independent and bragged about his ability to be that quite a bit, but deep down, even he knew that it was all a show. 

He just wanted people to see him as something other than a failed Captain America. He tried his best during that time, he really did, but something just didn’t click for him. 

Lemar would’ve been a better pick, in his opinion. The man, his best friend, had the skills and the heart to go with it. Evidently, as everyone kept informing him, John lacked the heart. He was definitely more of a “good soldiers follow orders” type of person and was, admittedly, violent. 

Maybe if Lemar were chosen as Captain America instead, he wouldn’t have died. Maybe it would’ve been John in his place. It should’ve been, honestly. He was already ruining things with Olivia and probably would’ve with Lemar as well. 

But he’s still here…and Lemar wasn’t.

He was here and being chased by a mutant who was getting closer. 

John refocused on the situation at hand and decided on his next course of action. 

Pulling a grenade from where he had it stored on his person, John pulled the pin and dropped it while he was running. He didn’t want to toss it behind him in case the mutant outran it. John figured he himself would get far enough away in time that it wouldn’t get him. 

The explosion rocked the tunnels, and the sound blast made John’s ears ring, but he kept running and making turns wherever he could.

Another roar from the thing reverberated throughout the tunnels. It was still so close to him. The grenade didn’t do a damn thing!

A sudden static filled John’s right ear as he was sprinting along the gravel pathways.

“... zrrt…-ker-...sszrt…-opy?”

Damn tunnels ruining everything. They may have been John’s new worst enemy.

“Walker!...zzzt…copy?”

Through his heart pounding in his ears and the reverberating echoes of the grenade and the mutant’s yell, Walker recognized Bucky’s voice barely coming through the comms.

As he sprinted, he quickly brought his hand up to his ear to turn on the comms. “A little busy!” He said through huffing breaths. John quickly took a turn, almost skidding on the gravel. “Please tell me you got Yelena out!”

“ Explo-...chrzzt…-what hap-...kzzt...she’s alr-...bzzt”

A crash sounded behind him, but he didn’t dare turn around. He hoped it was the big guy slamming into a wall or something.

“Great! Good!” John called out through the comms. His eyes widened when he saw the dead end that was rapidly approaching. Unless there was a secret tunnel that would make itself known, he was in trouble. “Now I could use some backup-”

Pain erupted in his back as something heavy was thrown at his body. Walker couldn’t help but let out a shout of pain at the impact. The yell was a mix of a pain reaction and him being startled at how far he flew as a result.

Gravel dug into his exposed skin, mostly just his face, as he slid along the rough ground, eventually stopping with a grunt when hitting the dead-end wall. 

He couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t just that the wind was knocked out of him, but the fact that it felt like one or more of his ribs were bruised, but most likely broken, restricting his breathing.

Nothing he couldn’t handle…probably.

John pushed himself up with one arm, wincing when a sharp pain bloomed across his ribs. His legs weren’t cooperating, not at first. He coughed, wet and rasping, and grimaced at the taste of iron on his tongue. Definitely bleeding somewhere.

Great.

He sucked in a breath, forced himself upright on trembling legs, and stumbled forward, dragging himself along the wall, attempting to find somewhere to hide in the dead end, as the thunderous footsteps behind him echoed louder and louder. He couldn’t keep running. Not for much longer.

Once his legs finally gave out on him, his back slammed against the cold stone, and that’s when he saw it: one of the tunnel’s massive support beams. Old, cracked, and probably hadn’t been touched since the Cold War. 

A plan formed in his head. It was probably a stupid one, but he didn’t care. He just needed this guy’s ugly mug out of the picture so his team could get out of there.

Letting out a groan from exertion, John managed to prop himself up enough to do what he was most likely going to regret.

“Alright, ugly,” John rasped, wiping away the blood that dripped down his chin with the back of his gloved hand. “Let’s see if you’re as dumb as you look.”

Heart thumping in his chest, Walker watched as the mutant came barreling towards him. He made sure he was just in front of what he really hoped was a weak point in the wall’s structure and waited until the last second to jump out of the way. 

His legs screamed as he dove as far as he could, and he couldn’t help but let out a pained gasp at the impact his body had with the ground. John did his best to stand up quickly and throw his shield at the remaining supports. Pain spiked in his ribs as he did so, forcing him to cough more.

He watched as the stone shuddered, but the shield didn’t bounce back.

As debris from the broken wall fell onto the mutant, John quickly – and clumsily– made his way over to the only other support beam that still looked halfway intact. His ribs screamed with every breath, vision already swimming at the edges, but he wasn’t done yet.

It was a stupid idea.

He was fully aware of that.

But sometimes, stupid ideas were the only ones that worked.

Fumbling at his belt, he yanked out the second, and final, grenade. He sucked in a breath, shallow and ragged through cracked ribs, and yanked the pin. The metal pinged off the wall behind him.

“I’m right here!” he shouted hoarsely. “Come hit me, you bastard!”

And it worked.

The creature barreled forward, bursting from the cloud of debris with a guttural roar, eyes locked on him like it recognized exactly who threw the last punch.

John dropped the grenade at the base of the beam and dove to the side, shielding his head just as the explosion rocked the tunnel. Stone cracked. Dust rained down like ash. The mutant stumbled straight through the blast, roaring louder, angrier…but now the tunnel was groaning.

Cracks spiderwebbed up the wall. The ceiling trembled.

Now or never.

John turned to run.

He almost made it.

Almost.

A massive hand clamped around his ankle, yanking him backward. His gun skittered out of reach. His ribs protested violently. His head slammed against the ground, and the rest of the world tilted on its axis.

Stone broke loose above them. He heard it. The sickening rumble of collapse, the high-pitched whine in his ears from the grenade, and the harsh, animal grunt of the creature pulling itself toward him.

Dust filled his lungs as he gasped.

His vision blurred, doubled. Red. Then white. Then dark again.

Something cracked…the ceiling, maybe his leg. Maybe even Lemar being thrown against a stone pillar. He wasn’t sure anymore.

Everything felt far away.

The sound of falling debris dulled to a low thud in his ears. A weight pressed down on him; something heavy, sharp, unforgiving. He couldn’t move his leg. Couldn’t feel much of anything except heat, pain, and grit in his teeth.

Then… movement. A shift in the air. Something dragging.

The creature was still alive.

It gurgled, a sick, wet, dying sound, somewhere nearby. Fingernails scraping across stone. A final snarl. John couldn’t tell if it was reaching for him or just refusing to die. But then, with one last choking breath, it collapsed.

Silence.

Almost.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. There were footsteps now. Distant. Voices muffled like they were underwater.

“– damn it, hold on–”

He blinked. Tried to lift his head. Failed.

Someone knelt beside him, hands on his shoulder, maybe checking for a pulse. He wanted to say something. Joke about the dead guy. Ask if they’d seen his shield. Anything.

But all that came out was a low breath, a garbled attempt at speech.

The voice came again, sharper this time. “Stay with me. You hear me? You did good, now stay with me.”

Lemar?

His brain reached for it, for the comforting weight of familiarity. But no, not Lemar. The voice felt older. Rougher.

Barnes.

John blinked again, just enough to see a flash of dark hair and blue eyes before his vision failed him completely.

“…y’shouldn’ be ‘ere…” he mumbled, or maybe just thought. His mouth just wasn’t moving right.

He wanted to tell Bucky to go, that it wasn’t worth it…that he wasn’t worth it.

But everything was getting heavy again.

So he let go.

Darkness crept in from the edges, thick and cold, until it swallowed the rest of him whole.

Chapter Text

“You’d think after all this time living here we’d be used to the heat by now.”

The cicadas were loud, buzzing from the trees beyond the Hoskins’ backyard, the air shimmering in the Georgia sun. John lay sprawled on the wooden deck, staring up at the faint streak of a jet cutting across the sky. For a moment, it almost felt like peace; summer days with nothing to worry about except how fast the heat was cooking the boards beneath them.

“You’d think…but, like, climate change, or whatever,” John muttered. “Keeps getting worse, or something.” He turned his head at Lemar’s voice, groaning in agreement. “I swear, I’m two minutes away from moving into my family’s fridge.”

Lemar laughed and rolled onto his back beside him. The two were waiting for John’s younger sister to finally be ready so they could head down to the lake, though John always insisted it was more of a pond.

“Well, at least we don’t live in the desert or something. I might take the humidity over dry heat.”

John shot him a look like he’d just grown another head. “What are you talking about? This is so much worse than that!”

Lemar sat up, grinning. “What? You want to go tell people in California—like Death Valley—that they don’t have it as bad as us?”

“No one lives in Death Valley, Lemar!”

“That you know of.”

“Oh, what? And you know this?”

“I know how easy it is to get you riled up, and it worked.”

“You…you’re an asshole, you know that?”

That set Lemar off into laughter, which only got worse when John’s face turned red and he broke into reluctant laughter of his own. It was the kind of easy, careless joy that seemed endless in the moment, filling the heavy summer air with something lighter.

By the time Kate finally came running out to meet them, their laughter had settled into tired grins. The three of them made their way to the lake, the heat sticking to their skin, water promising relief.

John wouldn’t say he hated his younger sister. Not at all. But the way their parents doted on her– princess treatment, constant attention– while John was expected to just “tough it out,” had left him feeling like the lesser child in his own home. Most of the time, he preferred the Hoskins’ place, where he felt more like he belonged.

Still, he didn’t hate Kate. Not really. And for a while, it was just fun; splashing, racing, the kind of games that felt like they could last forever…until the laughter broke off in a sharp, panicked cry.

John spun toward the sound, blood running cold as he spotted Kate thrashing out near the middle, where he’d told her not to go. A bitter thought flashed – of course she wouldn’t listen, of course someone would swoop in to save her. But no matter how much he sometimes resented the way things were, she was still his sister. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

He didn’t think. He just dove.

The water closed over him in a rush, cold against his burning skin. But Kate’s flailing hands shoved him under as she scrambled upward for air, her panic making her stronger than she knew. His lungs seized, his chest burning. His ears started to ring. He forced himself to hold on, hold it in–

A spasm tore through his chest, forcing a gasp. Water surged down his throat, burning, choking. He thrashed, panic taking over.

She’d better stay safe, John.
This is on you.
You have to protect them.
Why aren’t you watching him?

His heart pounded, wild and uneven.

You’re an asshole.
You know you’re trash, and so does your family.

Then it stuttered.

He was so proud of you.
It should’ve been you.
You let him die!
Murderer!

His body went numb, heavy, sinking.

You don’t deserve the shield.
Weak.
You ruin everything you touch.

The ringing he’d been hearing grew louder with each stuttering beat of his failing heart. His head felt full of cotton, and his limbs were detached from the rest of his body, like they didn’t belong to him anymore. He couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open or closed.

And for one terrifying moment, he wanted to give in.

To give up.

Breathe, John. You can breathe now.

His chest heaved without his control, shallow and painful.

You made it.

The words pulled at him, but his arms refused to move, his legs heavy and useless.

Don’t give up!

He felt a tug in his stomach, like being yanked back through the depths of a stormy sea.

But it would be so easy to let go. 

Cold prickles crawled along his skin.

You’re not all that bad.

His ears rang louder, and he felt himself slipping.

Don’t you dare leave us alone.

Everyone would be able to move on with their lives.

I need you in mine.

You’re still worth it.

Every thought collided, crashing into his senses. He wanted to give in. If he did… he’d be proving them right.

You can’t give up now. 

You still have people to protect, John.

John’s eyes were heavy as he attempted to pry them open. Harsh lights overhead made him want to squeeze them shut, but the weight and fatigue he felt prevented him from doing so. 

The world above him was a blur of movement, shapes, and colors he couldn’t distinguish from one another. Everything was going slowly. Then fast. Then slow again. 

He had to make sure they were okay.

“John…” a voice said, low and firm. He couldn’t quite place it, but it was familiar.

He jerked, straining to sit up. Pain shot through his chest, ribs screaming, legs trembling, but none of that mattered. He had to see them.

They had to be okay.

The ringing in his ears didn’t stop, but through the haze, he felt a weight on his chest, firm and steady, anchoring him in place. Panic flared; he wanted to move, to check on the others, but something in the grip holding him back was familiar. A hand, cold, metallic, rough but careful, pressed against his shoulders, keeping him from thrashing.

“Walker… stop squirming,” a voice said, low and steady.

It took a moment, but recognition pierced the fog. Bucky.

He tried to speak, to shout, but his throat felt clogged with cotton. His chest heaved painfully, lungs desperate for air.

“You’re okay,” Bucky repeated, rubbing his arms gently, keeping him steady. “You made it. Everyone’s okay. We’ve got you.”

Slowly, the knots of panic began to loosen. The soldier’s voice – solid and familiar – gave him a thread to hold onto. He blinked through the ringing, taking in flashes of the transport around him: dim lights, the hum of the engine, the side of a stretcher where Yelena leaned against the wall, pale but conscious next to her dad. Ava sat nearby, checking equipment, alert but not panicked.

John’s fingers twitched as he tried to sit up, and Bucky’s hand pressed firmly against his chest again.

“Just relax. We’re on our way back to the tower,” Bucky reassured. 

Something about the way Bucky was speaking confused John. The other didn’t usually show much concern for Walker, but it was evident in his voice.

Or maybe John was just tired.

Exhausted was a better word. 

“E’ryone’s’okay?” he rasped, voice raw, almost swallowed by the ringing in his ears.

Bucky’s eyes softened, though his grip didn’t. “Yeah. They’re banged up, but they’ll make it. Av’s got a busted shoulder, Alexei’s bruised up but nothing serious, and we already have something ready to help Yelena when we get to the tower. Everyone’s alive. You did your job.”

John let out a shaky exhale, relief flooding him even as pain clawed up his chest. He tried again to push himself upright, muscles screaming in protest. His vision swam, the blur of shapes shifting in and out of focus.

“I gotta–” he choked, trying to motion toward Yelena, toward Ava, anyone he couldn’t quite make out.

“No. You don’t gotta do anything right now,” Bucky said firmly, pressing him back against the stretcher with his vibranium arm. “You’re hurt worse than the rest of us. So stop fighting me and stay down.”

John blinked hard, trying to process, but his body wasn’t cooperating. He caught another glimpse of Yelena’s pale face, Ava leaning over her with quick, precise movements, and Alexei steady at her side. The sight pulled some of the weight off his chest, even if only for a moment.

His lungs burned, his throat raw, but he forced out a whisper. “They’ll…be okay?”

“They’ll be okay,” Bucky repeated, steady as steel. “You made sure of that.”

Something in John finally gave at that reassurance. His head lolled back against the stretcher, breath shallow, body trembling with exhaustion. He wasn’t convinced he deserved to rest, but he couldn’t fight it anymore.