Chapter Text
When Major John “Bucky” Egan finally sets his weary feet back on the tarmac at Thorpe Abbotts, he’s got a few requests.
He’s been a prisoner of war for nearly two years, so he’s nearly forgotten what clean clothes or a fluffy pillow feels like. He’s not asking for a lot, he’d just really like a hot shower and a meal that isn’t soup or anything remotely involving potatoes. Or turnips. God, he hopes he never sees a turnip again as long as he lives.
What Bucky would like to see, however, is Major Gale “Buck” Cleven but he’s noticeably missing from the welcoming party greeting the last remaining POW’s back to base. Bucky isn’t sure what to make of that, and there’s an uneasy feeling beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.
Since Gale’s escape from the march a few weeks ago, he should be well-fed, well-rested and greeting Bucky with his classic “stone in my shoe” line. Really, he just wants Gale however he can get him, but the only thing that meets him now is silence and a giant empty space where he should be.
It doesn’t make any sense.
This stretch of time is the longest that the two of them have been apart since they met back in Basic and Bucky feels like he’s going into withdrawal. Surely Gale is too, which is why Bucky can’t understand why Gale isn’t here.
As Bucky walks with the men for re-processing now that they’ve returned, he thinks once again of the few requests he had for his day. Shower. Food. Alcohol. Bed. But Gale, Gale should have been first.
Gale is always first on Bucky’s list. Maybe Bucky hadn’t communicated that clearly enough these last few months and that’s what the real issue is here. Clearly Bucky has some work to do before he can finally rest his head on that pillow he’s been dreaming of.
Still walking toward the buildings where their interrogations used to happen after missions, Bucky jerks his head around to find someone who might know where Gale is. His gaze lands on the dark curly head of Major Robert ”Rosie” Rosenthal first. Bucky tries to make his tone light, and says, “Where’s Buck? I figured he’d be on the hardstand waitin’ on me like my lil’ war bride.”
Rosie’s long, graceful gait alters ever so slightly and he missteps, as if staggering over some debris in his path. Bucky wonders for a moment if he’s helping Gale hide from him on purpose. Rosie’s cheeks become, well, rosy and his eyes shine in a way that Bucky will later realize wasn’t hope for the Buckies reunion, but fear for Bucky’s reaction.
It takes about five seconds for Bucky to realize that something is wrong. Very wrong.
“Tell me. Now,” he grinds out, his joking tone having completely vanished.
Rosie raises his eyes to meet Bucky’s and says, “Uh, Bucky, he didn’t want me to tell you. At least not ‘til you got settled back in. He’s been very worried about you.”
The weight of Rosie’s words land directly on Bucky’s shoulders. He feels them acutely. They sound an awful lot like guilt. He’d been afraid of this.
Bucky’s eyes narrow and his eyebrows furrow and Rosie sighs, giving in without a fight. “Fine. I’ll just tell you. Major Cleven — Gale…is in the infirmary.”
Bucky clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a sound of victory he doesn’t feel and says, “Now was that so hard?”
Bucky doesn’t even let him respond before he starts jogging off towards the infirmary in the opposite direction. Rosie turns to Crosby and says ruefully, “I’m glad the two of them are home now, but I wish I wasn’t stuck in the middle of their power struggle. If this is even a fraction of what being married feels like, I don’t want any part of it.”
Crosby laughs and slaps Rosie on the back. “You don’t even know the half of it. My recommendation? Stay single. But also, don’t base any healthy relationship on those two.”
Bucky had some requests for how today would go. A soft bed, yes. Finding Gale in that soft bed, sick as a dog, no.
When Bucky landed today, he figured he would be the one looking pretty rough. Pale. Underweight. In need of a shower, sure. Instead, it’s Gale who is all of those things. He looks worse than the last time Bucky saw him, and the last time he saw him, Gale was a prisoner of war being starved while on a death march.
This is bad. How did it get this bad this quickly?
Bucky levels a glare at Ken Lemmons, who just happens to be sitting at Gale’s bedside. “Tell me how this happened.”
“He, uh, well… he…,” Kenny is fumbling over his words because Bucky is clearly making him nervous.
Bucky realizes right away he’s got to take a softer approach. “I'm sorry Kenny. It’s okay, I’m not blamin’ you. I just wanna know what happened. Did he come back here like this? From the march?”
Kenny looks down at his shoes. He’s turning his hands over in his lap, running his sweaty palms over his pants, unable to sit still. Finally he says, “He was really run down when we got ‘im back of course. But he hasn’t been eatin’, Bucky. Or sleepin’. I don’t know for certain, but I think something's been botherin’ him. He just ain’t been the same.”
Shit.
Rosie’s words settle once again around his shoulders and Bucky just knows. He always knows when it comes to Gale. So this is about the escape from the march and Gale’s self imposed guilt from it. It’s gotta be. Gale is as private as they come and he won’t go telling Kenny his business. So he simply replies, “Well you know Buck, he’s a workaholic. Guess he just ran himself down trying to feel like things were back to normal for him maybe?”
Kenny finally looks up and nods, “Yeah, I guess so. He got sick a couple of days ago and wouldn’t stop workin’. Wouldn’t see the Doc either. He’s been hackin’ up a lung, ya know? I found him collapsed against a supply shed yesterday afternoon. Just thankful I found him when I did ‘cause it rained last night. What if he’d gotten wet and sat out here all night? He doesn’t need pneumonia on top of the flu.”
Kenny looks down at his lap again and Bucky’s heart softens. He places a hand on Kenny’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “Thank you Kenny, for taking care of him when I wasn't here to do it.”
Kenny stands and vacates the chair at Gale’s bedside and says, “It doesn’t look like I did a very good job, Major. It’s time for you to take over the watch now.”
As Kenny leaves, Bucky sits down at Gale’s side and runs his fingers through his own unruly curls. He sighs. Gale really does look downright terrible. And for Gale Cleven to look terrible, it’s bad.
His wan and pale face glistens with perspiration under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary. Bucky wonders how high his fever must be for Gale to be visibly sweating. It takes everything in him not to brush back the wayward curl that’s dropped on to Gale’s damp forehead. The infirmary is buzzing with people, doctors and nurses and it won’t do to get sent home on a blue ticket now.
That’s right, John Egan loves Gale Cleven and Gale Cleven loves John Egan back. So it simply won’t do to lose one another now, either to a simple case of influenza or the brass finding out that they are together. Bucky’s got to keep his hands to himself as much as it pains him to do so.
The dark circles under Gale’s eyes make Bucky wonder just how long Gale has been carrying around the weight of his escape. Bucky leans as close to Gale as he dares and says, “You and I have a lot to discuss, Major. There’s nothing you need to feel bad, guilty or sorry about. I told you to run. You were just obeying the orders of a superior officer.” Bucky’s eyes dance at the implied joke he’s made, wishing Gale was awake to hear it.
Gale’s eyes pop open and Bucky can tell he’s not completely lucid. “Bucky,” he croaks out, his voice cracking around the words as his tongue slips out to moisten his pink lips and his eyes crinkle at the corners in confusion, “is it…is it really you?”
“You bet on my lucky two dollar bill it’s me! I’d say your stone in your shoe is back, ‘cept you aren’t wearing’ any shoes Buck. Care to explain to me why you’re currently layin’ down on the job?” Bucky says, his grin lighting up his face. It’s a relief to see Gale’s eyes again, even as hazy as they are.
Gale tries to sit up and Bucky stops him with a slight press of his hand to Gale’s chest, “Whoa now, Major. You need to take it easy. I hear you’ve got the flu.”
Before Gale can respond, a nurse approaches with some medical gear in tow. “He does have the flu. I’m Nurse Collins and I’m here to put in an IV. Major Cleven needs some fluids because of his fever.”
Gale’s eyes widen ever so slightly. Bucky looks between them, perplexed. He’s seen Gale get plenty of shots and has been there when he’s been poked and prodded for medical exams before with no issues. “Buck, don’t tell me you’re afraid of needles?”
Gale’s eyes drift off into the distance and he says gruffly, “Of course I’m not afraid of needles.”
The nurse moves to Gale’s side and Bucky shifts out of her way. This shouldn’t take long and Bucky is relieved to see that Gale will be well hydrated with all the fluids he’s losing due to his high fever.
As the nurse takes out a needle to insert the IV, Gale starts making low keening noises. Bucky has never heard him make a sound like that before. “Gale, Buck, hey man, are you okay?”
He leans around the nurse to see that what little color there was on Gale’s face has now drained away. He is as pale as the sheet he’s lying on. Not only that, he’s beginning to thrash his legs in those sheets and is getting himself tangled up.
Bucky sees the moment it happens. The combination of the needle, the hovering nurse, Bucky back from the march, Gale’s delirium and the constricting sheets send Gale into a full on panic. Gale Cleven is a trained machine and he fights like one against any target he’s faced with.
It just so happens that this one is a hospital bed.
Gale thrashes like a wild animal against the sheets and the bed and finally wins. He throws himself off of it and lands on the floor only to fall to his knees. He crawls like a toddler only to pull himself up on a table filled with medical supplies. He sends glass bottles and syringes plummeting to the ground with a resounding crash, glass shattering everywhere.
Gale’s eyes are wide with terror and Bucky can tell that Gale no longer knows where he is. The nurse says, “I have to get a doctor, he has to be sedated.”
Bucky says, “He’s never been afraid of needles before…I have no idea what happened. But let me try to calm him down first before he hurts himself, okay?”
The nurse runs off to get help while Bucky turns to help Gale.
Gale cowers in the corner of the base infirmary, curling all lanky six feet of himself into as small of a ball as possible. It’s the most heartbreaking thing Bucky has ever seen. Gale’s sky blue eyes are wide and shine with unshed tears and his mouth is open in a silent scream that will never be heard. Gale won’t let it out, he can’t let it out.
It hits Bucky like a truck. The child of abuse.
Gale knows how to make himself small and silent better than anyone because it’s been ingrained into his bones since he lived under James Cleven’s rule. Bucky has to close his eyes before taking another step, building up his resolve at seeing the man he loves in this much pain.
As he approaches, Gale shakes and Bucky isn't sure if it’s the fever or fear. Gale’s hands come out of the burrow he’s made and he holds them out in front of himself. It’s a universal sign to tell Bucky to stop and the only protective measure Gale’s got in his arsenal right now.
Finally Gale opens his mouth and he gruffly shouts, “Get away from me, you Nazi scum. I won’t tell you anything no matter how much you hurt me.”
Bucky is shaken by Gale’s outburst, trying to process it when Gale says, “Gale Cleven, Major, O-399782.”
Bucky hits his knees then, staring blankly at the scene before his eyes. He’s always known when it comes to Gale. But he didn’t know this because Gale never told him he’d been tortured. Or maybe Bucky just didn’t want to see.
And so the chasm opens…both in Bucky’s heart and in between the two of them.