Spam for littleguyfrombrooklyn

[endsinafight]

Bucky'd been fidgety throughout the debriefing with Fury, even if he hadn't moved a muscle as he listened to the mission -- another HYDRA target, smaller, on a remote island in the Pacific. Not the usual setup, which made him uneasy from the get-go. But there was something else, something nagging at him, something in Fury's tone that told him there was more to this mission than he was willing to divulge. It wasn't a surprise. Fury might not be HYDRA, but in some ways his methods were so similar that it felt like being back there anyway. He definitely believed in the need to know principle, and obviously he didn't feel like they needed to know whatever it was he was holding back. His gaze darted to Steve, wondering if he'd picked up on it, too.

But if Steve had, his expression didn't betray his thoughts.

He pressed his lips together as they were dismissed, Fury addressing him as the others agents involved in the mission filtered out of the room. "Barnes. Hang back a minute."

And there it was, he thought, meeting Steve's eyes only briefly before lingering as Fury requested. One the door was shut again, the other man turned to study him.

"You have a different mission while they're disabling all of HYDRA's operating systems and containing the operatives."

Bucky studied him just as intently, his voice flat when he responded. "Who'm I eliminating?"

If Fury was surprised by his response, he gave nothing away. "Your target is Katya Belyakov."

"Who is she?" His voice was wary.

"You sure you wanna know the details, Barnes?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"If you're asking me to murder someone, yes," Bucky said, jaw tightening.

Fury regarded him for a long moment. "Essentially, she's the of the most dangerous people in the galaxy. Mind control abilities that she's utilized to force others to commit her dirty work. She's likely being accompanied by a former SHIELD operative who turned out to be moonlighting for HYDRA, Grant Ward. I'd prefer him to remain alive. He's got a lot to answer for."

Every muscle in Bucky's body tensed at the information about Belyakov, but also the name Grant Ward, his stomach turning in recognition.

"Ah. See you're familiar with him then."

"Unfortunately," Bucky responded stiffly, struggling to maintain his composure. "I'm assuming this isn't an optional mission." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"You knew when you signed the dotted line that there's no such thing here, Barnes. Is there a problem? Or do I need to go over the fine print of your contract to refresh your memory?"

Fuck you, he thought. "No, Sir. Am I free to go?"

"You're dismissed."

--

An hour later, he was suited up in his tac gear, breathing steady and even despite the wild pounding of his heart as he boarded the quinjet with a team he didn't know or trust, and the only person on the earth he truly did.

Comments

[endsinafight]

He squeezed his eyes shut as tears burned there, nodding. He still had his hand. And maybe the recovery would take awhile, but it was Steve. Steve, who'd overcome a myriad of different ailments and issues and beat the goddamn odds a thousand times over already. He would be okay. He would. "Thank you," he murmured. He leaned heavily against the counter for a moment.

"Barnes. Yours is going to be the first face he wants to see," Natasha said quietly, starting to reach out to lay a hand on his shoulder and pulling back at the last moment, thinking better of it. "You should go back."

Bucky drew in a slow breath, nodding. "Where?"

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

The nurse’s eyes widened at Bucky’s name and then flicked to his prosthetic, fully placing him. Her face softened when she looked at him, seeing how hard he took the news.

Natasha filed the reaction away as more proof that the romance was a good angle.

“I can take you back, Mr. Barnes,” the nurse said, kindly.

[endsinafight]

He missed the woman's reaction entirely, but at the reassurance, he managed a faint smile, nodding quickly. "Thank you," he said again, glancing momentarily at Natasha and Sam before following her down the hall. He chewed his lower lip as he walked, heart still beating quickly in his chest as he tried to prepare himself for the assortment of tubes and equipment that were likely attached to his best friend right now.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

As she took him back, the nurse gave him a sidelong look. She remembered reading an exposé that talked a little about the whole thing with HYDRA and he looked tense. Poor guy.

“A normal patient wouldn’t remember much right now,” she said. “Normally he’d need two or so hours in the recovery room. I’ve not worked with Captain Rogers before, but his records say that he’ll recover much faster than usual.”

She lead him into a private suite. Steve was laying on the bed, a couple layers of institutional hospital blankets on him. He had an IV in his arm, oxygen nose prongs, and a blood oxygenation meter on his uninjured hand. The left hand was totally swaddled with bandages.

“Captain Rogers,” she said, cheerfully.

“Steve,” he muttered, without opening his eyes.

She carefully checked on the IV and tutted are him. “You pushed out your fluids again.”

“Did not,” he said, peering at her through mostly closed slits.

“Did so. It’s that super-skin,” she said, waving the leaking needle. “Gonna be a prick.”

She swiped it with alcohol and reinserted it.

“You have a visitor,” she said and Steve opened his eyes. At the first sight of Bucky, he beamed like the sun.

[endsinafight]

Bucky simply nodded his understanding at her words, already familiar with this drill, even if it was probably a lot more pleasant than waking up after a surgery at HYDRA, if they bothered to put you under to begin with. Most of the time they hadn't. He lingered at the door, holding his breath as he stared at Steve's near motionless body.

He swallowed heavily, breath hitching a little in his throat as he listened to the quiet conversation, the light-hearted banter even despite Steve's sedated state. He rubbed at his eyes absently even as the kind nurse told Steve that he had a visitor.

Bucky stepped farther into the room so Steve could see him and the way his face lit up made his entire chest feel warm. He exhaled slowly, returning the smile with one of his own even if it wasn't quite as bright as Steve's. "Hey, Pal," he said quietly.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve looked just as doped up as he was, which was a lot. His smile was lopsided, but so broad.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Hi Buck. Hi.”

The nurse restrained her snort of laughter, but couldn’t do anything about her smile.

“Don’t be alarmed if the heart monitor squawks at you,” she told Bucky. “His normal heart rate is a lot lower than most people’s and we can’t change the settings. It kept going off during surgery—very annoying. I’ll step out, his call button is here if you need anything.”

She wagged her finger at Steve. “Be good. No moving. You’ve had doses of anasthesia that would kill half a dozen normal people.”

He totally ignored her and tried to reach for Bucky with the hand that was connected to the IV and blood oxygen monitor.

“That’s moving! Mr. Barnes, get over here before he makes me do his IV for the eighth time.”

[endsinafight]

Despite everything else that had happened, Bucky couldn't quite restrain his own laugh, taking a couple steps toward the bed and pausing to listen to the nurse's warnings about the heart monitor, glad she'd told him. If it had started going off with no warning, he probably would have had a heart attack himself.

He raised his eyebrows when she wagged her finger at Steve and scolded him preemptively. Smart woman, he thought. Because of course Steve was going to complete ignore that advice.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said quietly, closing the distance between them and taking Steve's hand in his own, lowering it to the bed. "No moving, Stevie," he warned him, voice serious. He wrapped his ankle around the leg of the chair a couple feet away, dragging it over to him and easing himself into it. "Try and rest, okay? Sleep while you can." While the drugs were still in his system.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

The nurse slipped out.

Steve was gazing at Bucky, his eyes as round as dollar coins and very blue.

“I’m dreaming,” he said. “You’re an angel.”

[endsinafight]

He snorted at that, shaking his head. It had been a long while since he'd Steve like this, doped up and without a brain to mouth filter. "You're definitely drugged," he informed him. "Not dreaming, and I'm no angel. Far from it." He couldn't take his eyes off him, though, taking the opportunity to gaze back at him. He kept his hand resting lightly over his, both because he needed the reassurance that he was truly okay, and to keep him from being too tempted to wave his hand around.

"Any pain?"

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

His mouth was hanging open a little and he stared at Bucky, searching his face.

“You’re an angel,” he said, mildly disagreeing. He tried to free his hand from Bucky’s but failed.

“I want to touch your chin,” he said. “You have the perfect little dimple.”

It took Steve a moment to process Bucky’s question and he made a little face.

“Hurts,” he confirmed. “Nauseated, too. But I like your face. It helps. Keep smiling at me.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky felt his cheeks grow warm at that and he shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Right now you gotta keep still, remember? Don't wanna have that pretty nurse have to come back and stick ya again, do ya?" His Brooklyn accent, mostly eroded away over the decades, suddenly made an appearance and he wondered momentarily if it was because of the familiarity with this situation.

"I'm sorry it hurts," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the back of Steve's hand gently, absently. "And I like your face too." He couldn't exactly stop smiling now, even if he really wanted to. He doubted it made any actual difference, but maybe it was a case of mind over matter.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

“You’re prettier,” Steve said. “You could stick me.”

He was mostly just babbling, but his words filtered through his own brain enough to make him blush, going pink.

He beamed again, though, momentary embarrassment forgotten when Bucky said he liked Steve’s face.

“Really?” Steve said. “Wowee. A looker like you and you like my face?”

[endsinafight]

Bucky's mouth went dry at that, but it was Steve's cheeks who burned with the realization of what he'd said, even this doped up. He filed that away to examine at a later date. Hopefully.

He huffed out a laugh. "Pal, when's the last time you looked in a mirror?" Because in his book, there was absolutely no comparison.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve squinted, taking the question literally. His memory wasn’t up to the task of trying to figure out exactly when he’d last looked in a mirror. After a few moments he gave up and smiled at Bucky again.

“Doesn’t matter. Nobody’s prettier than you. Could get any dame you wanted. But you like my face.”

[endsinafight]

He ducked his head momentarily, not sure what to do with the compliments. He never did know how to react or respond to them these days. He had vague memories of living for that sort of praise when they were younger.

"Yeah, well. I've always liked your face," he said quietly, looking back at Steve, his own eyes a slightly darker shade of blue-gray than usual.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand.

“I’ve always liked yours, too,” he said, a little shy. “We’re a pair of dopes, huh? Took us forever.”

[endsinafight]

"Times weren't always easy. Probably for the best if we're being realistic." He scooted the chair a little closer, right up against Steve's hospital bed, to relieve a bit of the strain on his shoulders and back from leaning forward. It was something he'd thought about a million times, and something he wished he never thought about at all. Because the only thing worse than everything happening the way it had would have been if they'd actually been together when it all started.

He still didn't actually remember the fall from the train other than a split second - Steve screaming his name. He didn't remember the immediate events that led up to it and he wasn't sure he wanted to. The brain was an odd thing, he supposed.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

When Bucky started shifting around, Steve brightened and shuffled a little away from him on the hospital bed, trying to make space for Bucky to join him. He was already moving a little better under his own power than he had just a few minutes before.

“C’mon up,” he said. “I rest easier with you.”

But when Bucky said it was for the best, he frowned. “I don’t believe that. I’d’ve made any sacrifice for just a few more minutes of loving you. I want it to be forever.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky hesitated at that. There wasn't that much room and they were both big guys. But he also knew that Steve was sincere with that because they hadn't slept alone in weeks now and they both got more rest with the reassurance of the other right beside them. He nodded, very carefully easing himself down on his left side, back pressed up against the bed railing, digging into his spine, but he didn't care. He was careful not to jostle the IV line in Steve's hand as he settled himself there.

His chest tightened and grew warm with a flood of bittersweet emotion at his words. It hadn't worked out that way for them, and he didn't know what the future had in store, either. "Okay, I'm here. You need to rest, Stevie."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

It was a very tight fight, but Steve felt the length of Bucky’s body like sinking into a warm bath. He sighed, a slow deflating of air, and shifted around a little so he could rest his head on Bucky’s chest, underneath his arm.

“You’ve convinced me,” he said, a little groggy. “Best pillow. I love you.”

He pressed a soft kiss over the fabric of Bucky’s t-shirt. The drugs had made him feel more free with these little physical markers of affection.

[endsinafight]

Bucky watched as Steve rearranged himself, finally moving to rest his head on Bucky's chest. It was usually the other way around, at least in this century, but the position felt familiar to him nonetheless. He hesitantly moved his right hand up to card through Steve's hair, breath hitching at the seemingly easy declaration. He rested his head down on the pillow, swallowing a few times before managing to echo the sentiment. "Love you, too," he whispered.

"Sleep."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve murmured something that might have intended to be a sentence, but just came out as a garbled bit of warmth, smothered by drugs and sleep and pain. He rubbed his cheek against Bucky’s chest, like a cat, and buried his smile in his chest. He was out in moments, snoring lightly.

[endsinafight]

When Steve drifted to sleep, Bucky followed soon after, however unintentionally. He'd hit his limit for the day, apparently. It was a couple hours later when he woke up, body stiff and uncomfortable from his squished position in the bed, but he didn't dare move and wake Steve. The guy needed all the rest he could get so he could heal faster.

His hand was still cupped around the back of the other's neck and for a long time he simply laid there, unmoving, listening to the quiet sound of his breathing. Involuntarily, his gaze dropped to Steve's bandaged hand and his chest tightened a little. The fact that he still had it was a good sign. A great sign, even. It was one more thing to add to his list of regrets, though, because if he'd just followed Fury's order to begin with, Steve wouldn't have even been injured. An inaudible sigh escaped him.

Right. Fury. Still had to figure out how to deal with that.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve woke up, all at once. Maybe it was some minute twitch of Bucky’s or just the serum having worked through the anesthesia, but one moment he was asleep and the next he was awake.

He blinked, aware first that he was on top of Bucky. It was only after a moment of smiling about that the pain in his hand hit him like a truck.

“Ahh, fuck,” he said under his breath. He tried to sit up, looking at his hand and twisting the hand a little to see what he could feel. Nothing but pain, really.

[endsinafight]

Bucky let him sit up, grimacing at the obvious pain that he was in, and he reached out, pressing the nurse call button on the bed. "Slow, deep breaths," he said softly. He couldn't take Steve's pain for him -- if he could, he would -- but he could try and help him through it. He had some experience in that area, after all. "Try not to move it. It'll make it worse." He also knew that it was almost impossible to follow that directive, because when you were in pain there was this strange desire to see what made it worse, like poking your tongue where a tooth used to be.