As always, thank you to everyone who followed along and supported my Whumptober work! Please feel free to share this Masterpost with links to all of this year's prompts!
All prompts are Avengers fandom, specifically centered around the Falcon and The Winter Soldier tv show. All links lead to AO3 or Fanfic.net respectively, reader’s preference on which site you’d like to read on! Or if you’d rather read the prompts on Tumblr, you can search on my profile for the whumptober2021 tag. Enjoy!
#1: All Trussed Up and Nowhere To Go
Barbed Wire | Bound
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#2: Talking is Overrated
Choking
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#3: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But…
Insults
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#4: Trust Fall
Pushed
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#5: I’ve Got Red in My Ledger
Betrayal
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#6: Touch and Go
Bruises | Touch Starved
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#7: My Spidey-Sense is Tingling
Helplessness | Blindness
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#8: Coughing Up a Lung
Pneumothorax
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#9: Rumors of my Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated
Presumed Dead | (blind) Rage
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#10: Oops I Did It Again
Hospital
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#11: Just Keep Swimming
Adrift | Drowning
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#12: It'll Be Fun, They Said
Torture | Made to watch | Begging
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#13: That's Gonna Leave a Mark
“This is gonna suck” | Burns | Cauterization
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#14: Under Pressure
Beaten
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#15: Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever
Delirium | Fever Dreams
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#16: On A Need To Know Basis
Recovery | Aftermath
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#17: Field Care 101
“Please don’t move!” | Hemorrhage
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#18: The Doctor Is In
CPR
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#19: Just A Scratch
Bitten | Bleeding
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#20: Lost & Found
Trapped Under Water
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#21: That’s Where The Blood’s Supposed To Be
Blood-Matted Hair
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#22: Alternative Prompt
Anxiety
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#23: You Break It, You Buy It
Pursuit
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#24: One Down Two To Go
Self-Induced Injuries to Escape
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#25: Alternative Prompt
Forgotten
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#26: You Will Go Down With This Ship
Fallen
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#27: I'm Fine, I Prom...
Passing Out | Vertigo | Collapse
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#28: It’s Not Just In Your Head
Nightmares | Panic
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#29: All Work And No Play
Too weak to move | Overworked
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#30: Digging Your Grave
Left for dead
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
#31: Hide & Seek
Disaster zone
AO3 Link | Fanfic.net Link
“I’m working on it,” Sam snapped back over the roar of the wind.
Bucky and Sam had been helping with evacuations of a remote town. The hurricane had practically come out of nowhere, and these people didn’t have many resources available to them in order to properly evacuate. Bucky had been helping direct people on the ground inland to an established shelter, while Sam flew out anyone with any mobility issues. Sam and gone for one last fly over the town to make sure no one had been left behind... when the hurricane had hit.
Sam desperately needed to land, there was no way he could out fly a damn hurricane. Unfortunately the winds had picked up unexpectedly quickly and Sam suddenly found himself swept out over the roiling ocean.
“Shit,” Sam gasped as he fought against the winds that knocked him this way and that, stealing the air from his lungs. “Buck, I’m in trouble here.” Static hissed over the comm. “Bucky?” More static.
Sam was on his own.
Sam took a deep breath and tried to think of his options. He needed to get out of this funnel cloud. His options were to get above the storm, outside the storm, or into the eye of the storm. Before he could figure out a game plan, he was suddenly being pelted with golf ball sized hail. He brought his hands up to cover his head as he struggled to stay airborne…
He wouldn’t remember how it happened, but the next thing he knew he had plunged into the ocean. The water churned violently, and it felt like Sam was being beaten to a pulp. His lungs were already screaming for air, and if he didn’t do something now, this was going to be it for him.
Using every bit of concentration that he had, Sam focused on his wings, sweeping them through the water as hard as they were able to. He had no sense of direction at that point, he could only pray that he would eventually stumble upon some calmer water before he lost consciousness.
Just keep swimming, Sam thought dimly to himself as he fought fiercely for consciousness, remembering watching Finding Nemo with his nephews. Just keep…
Next thing he knew, he felt an arm wrapped around his chest and he was being dragged through what felt like quicksand. He squinted his eyes open as coughed and wheezed, his lungs desperately bailing out saltwater and trying to replace it with precious oxygen.
“I got you!” a voice called over the winds still roaring in his ears.
“Buck?” Sam wheezed as he craned his head around to get a look at his rescuer.
Bucky was soaked to the bone as he dragged Sam up onto the beach, his vibranium arm up and attempting to deflect the hail that was still being flung at them. They paused up on the beach -- which was getting smaller by the second -- and Sam managed to pull his wings around to form a small shelter for the two of them.
“How’d you…” Sam wheezed as he continued to cough and gasp for breath.
“You did most of the work yourself,” Bucky admitted. “I just had to pull you in the last fifty yards.”
“Is that all?” Sam huffed on a half hysterical laugh.
“I also had to run my ass all the way down here because you thought it was a good idea to go for a cruise in a hurricane,” Bucky teased.
“Thank you, Bucky,” Sam said sincerely.
Bucky nodded and smirked. “Well, you pulled my ass out of the fire enough times, figured it was time to return the favor. Now, c’mon. The military is sending an armored vehicle out here to pick our asses up. We gotta get to the RV point or we’re gonna miss our ride.”
Sam still felt unsteady as Bucky helped him to his feet, and gratefully leaned on Bucky as they began the trudge to the RV point, keeping his wings up to at least protect their upper bodies from the hail.
By all accounts, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were an unlikely duo. But when it came down to it, they always had each others’ backs. And in the end, that’s all that mattered.
“No heat signatures. Looks like this place has been deserted for a while.”
“We’re running out of places to look, Wilson.”
“I know, Torres,” Sam acknowledged flatly.
It had been two weeks since Bucky had disappeared. Every lead they had run down had been a dead end. And now, as Sam stood in yet another abandoned compound, he was beginning to lose hope.
“Are you heading back?” Torres asked through the comms.
“I’m gonna take a look around,” Sam said as he began walking through the hallway. “Maybe I can dig up something useful.”
Sam covered the entire compound. He went into every office, every lab, every broom closet. It was clear whoever had been here had left in a hurry. Trash cans filled with the ashes of burned documents were scattered all over the place. One of the bigger labs had been soaked in gasoline and all the equipment was burned or melted. Sam noticed that the rail of gasoline seemed to lead from the lab out into the hallway. It looked like the plan had been to burn the whole building down, but perhaps that was easier said than done in a concrete compound in the dead of winter in Siberia.
“Alright, nothing here,” Sam finally reluctantly admitted. “I’m heading out.”
“Copy that.”
Sam started to turn and head out of the room… but paused. There was movement in one corner of the lab. Sam took a few steps, and realized that it was a chipmunk that was scavenging around the debris. Again, Sam started to turn but stopped when the chipmunk seemed to suddenly vanish. This time, Sam crossed the room to get a better look, and found that one of the large pieces of equipment had fallen over and hit a heavy shelving unit that was built into one of the interior walls. The unit had dented inward, which had warped the bottom of the unit outward… and revealed an empty gap between the bottom of the unit and the floor that should not be there.
“Hang on,” Sam said. “I got one more thing I need to check out.”
Sam walked over to the shelving unit and turned on a headlight on his suit. The light revealed that not only was there empty space where there shouldn’t be, but there also appeared to be stairs. Sam dug his shoulder into the unit and with an effort he managed to push it inward just far enough for him to be able to slip past it and into the hidden stairwell.
He moved carefully on his way down, wary of what he might find. The stairwell was a lot longer than he would have expected, it had to be at least two stories down before it finally ended in a hallway with a door a few feet away. The door was made of solid metal. When Sam tried the handle he found that it was locked. He pulled a kit from his suit and found that the lock was simple enough for him to pick in a matter of minutes.
The door groaned shrilly as Sam pushed it open, revealing a pitch black space beyond it. Sam carefully stepped inside, shining his light from one side to the other in order to get an idea of what he was looking at. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. There was a long hallway with half a dozen small barred rooms lining either side.
“Found the creepy, secret dungeon,” Sam reported as he took another careful step forward and looked into the first cell, finding it empty.
“Seriously?” Torres said, surprised. “Our scans didn’t pick up anything.”
“Guessing the scans didn’t go deep enough,” Sam said as he continued to move down the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the concrete as he looked into each cell. “Looks like there’s a whole lotta nothing down here anyway.”
Sam got to the last two cells in the hallway. He looked to the right and saw an empty cell. He turned around to head back, glancing into the last cell on the left as he went… and froze. Not only could he suddenly not move, but he felt like his heart had come to a complete stop in his chest.
There was a figure in that cell.
Sam stared for a long moment. The figure was curled on its right side with its back to the front of the cell. That could be anyone, Sam reminded himself. There was no evidence to suggest… and then Sam moved his light and caught the glint off of one of the arms.
It was Bucky.
Sam barely remembered blasting away the lock on the door so he could throw it open and run inside. The next thing he knew he was crashing to his knees next to the unmoving figure.
“Bucky? Bucky?!” Sam practically shouted.
He put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and carefully rolled him over onto his back. Bucky’s muscles remained completely slack as Sam moved him. His left arm clattered onto the cement floor and remained unmoving. His eyes were closed and there was blood coating the right side of his face.
Sam had the sinking feeling that he was looking at a corpse.
“Bucky…” Sam whispered desperately, his voice shaking with barely contained emotion. “C’mon, Buck. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me.”
Sam put two fingers under Bucky’s chin and lifted it to make sure his airway wasn’t obstructed. He leaned down, hovering his cheek over Bucky’s nose and mouth. Then he held his own breath, waited, and prayed.
Was it his desperate imagination? Or was there the barest whisper of a breath brushing up against his cheek?
Sam straightened up and kept one hand on Bucky’s chin to hold it up, and put two fingers of his other hand on the pulse point in Bucky’s neck. He had to take several deep breaths in order to still his trembling hands long enough to feel it… but there was a pulse.
“Torres, I need medevac out here now,” Sam snapped into the comms.
“Are you alright?” Torres asked worriedly.
“I found Bucky. He’s unconscious, but alive.” Just barely, anyway…
There was a long pause as Torres absorbed this information. “Holy shit! Yeah, okay, I’m contacting medevac now.”
“Good, tell them I’ll meet them outside the west side of the compound,” Sam said as he threaded one hand under Bucky’s shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him up into his arms.
Sam moved as quickly as he dared back down the hallway, vaguely aware that Bucky didn’t seem as heavy as he should have. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a light groan come from the bundle in his arms.
“I got you, Bucky,” Sam assured him, not missing a step as he continued to climb, panting slightly with the effort. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I got you.”
By the time Sam stepped out of the west side of the building, the medevac had thankfully landed, the paramedics already waiting with a gurney. As Sam gently placed Bucky on the gurney, Bucky’s eyes blinked open and he looked around blearily.
“Bucky?” Sam said, drawing his attention as the paramedics fastened the safety straps across Bucky’s chest. “Hey, you’re alright. We got you.”
Bucky raised his right hand and Sam caught it between his hands, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Thought… you woulda… woulda given up… by now…” Bucky murmured breathlessly.
“Never, Buck,” Sam assured him firmly as he walked with the gurney as the paramedics took him back to the waiting helicopter, keeping a firm hold of Bucky’s hand as they moved. “I never woulda given up.”
“You’re still not dead?” | Too weak to move | Overworked
It was over. John Walker was incapacitated. The shield was recovered. They may have lost a lot that day, but at least they hadn’t lost this.
Bucky unceremoniously dropped the shield next to Sam, turned, and silently walked away. For a long moment, Sam only lay there and watched him go. Finally, with what seemed like a monumental amount of effort, Sam pushed himself over to his side and reached for the blood stained shield. His heart twisted painfully in his chest. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t the way Steve Rogers’ legacy was supposed to be treated. Sam sat up and found himself rubbing at the blood on the shield, trying in vain to clean the blood off of it.
It just wasn’t that simple though.
Finally, with an effort, Sam stood up. He sent one last glance over at John to make sure he was really down for the count, and then started trudging out of the warehouse. As he walked, he made a quick call to Torres to report where they could apprehend Walker.
Sam stepped outside and glanced around. For a moment, he didn’t see Bucky anywhere. He wouldn’t really be surprised if Bucky had just left. He knew how hard this fight for the shield was on Bucky, a fight that Bucky had been carrying for much longer than Sam. But then Sam glimpsed a figure further down the loading dock. Bucky was crouched down and hunched over, his right hand braced on the ground in front of him, his left arm wound around his stomach.
Sam wanted to hurry over to him, but it took all of his energy just to put one foot in front of the other at a slow, careful pace.
“Bucky?” Sam asked as he approached. Bucky didn’t move. “You okay, man?” Still no answer.
Sam sighed heavily. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been this exhausted in his entire life. He lowered himself down next to Bucky, listening to his joints pop and groan at the effort. He started in a crouch, but his knees protested fiercely, so he plopped down on his butt, stretching one leg out in front of him while propping his arm up on his other knee.
“C’mon, Buck, give me something,” Sam said, getting more worried. Now that everything was still, Sam’s brain was able to catch up and comprehend everything that had happened. And he realized that Bucky had been down a significant amount of time after he had been thrown into that generator. “You still with me?”
“Yeah,” Bucky croaked as he pushed himself up.
As he did, Sam’s eye caught on the fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand. The hand was flexed and his figures seemed to be spasming unnaturally.
“You okay?” Sam asked again, this time with much more worry in his tone.
“Yeah, I just… just need a minute. Damn electricity… pro’ly messed with some kinda connection. It just… needs to fix itself.”
From the way that Bucky had to grind out the words, Sam could tell he was in pretty significant pain. He reached over and placed a gentle hand on Bucky’s right shoulder.
“Hey, sit down,” he urged. “Authorities are on their way to take in Walker. We got time to take a beat. And I think we both need one right now.”
Bucky let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back, falling hard on his ass next to Sam. Then, after a moment, he laid down right there on the concrete, carefully stretching out his left arm, his fingers continuing to twitch on their own accord. Sam actually felt a little better about his own exhaustion, seeing Bucky blink tiredly as he lay there.
Apparently, even super soldiers had their limits.
The two stayed there for a long time. Even when the authorities came to collect Walker, Sam waved them off when they tried to talk to them. There would be time for a debrief later. There would be time to go over every painful detail of how they had ended up here later. For now, it was enough just to exist.
Sam was fairly familiar with Bucky’s nightmares. They didn’t happen every night anymore, but by Sam’s estimates they still happened a couple times a week at least. And it would be more frequent after a rough mission. He had learned the patterns after they shared motel rooms and safehouses on missions, and had begun insisting that Bucky take some downtime at his sister’s house with him after missions.
Most nights, Sam didn’t know that Bucky had a nightmare until he woke up in the morning and found that Bucky was already gone. If they were at his sister’s house, Bucky usually would have found some kind of chore to lose himself in, if they were on mission he’d either be cleaning his already cleaned guns or out for a run. Most of the time, Bucky would wake up from his nightmares with nothing more than eyes snapping open and a light gasp.
Most of the time, being the key phrase.
It was after an especially long and drawn out mission that had taken a lot out of both of them. They probably could have made it all the way back to Delacroix that day, but the thought of taking just one more step than absolutely necessary was draining.
They trudged into the room, Sam in the lead and Bucky shuffling along behind him. Sam dropped his bag on the bed closest to the door, knowing that having some distance from the door was easier on Bucky’s PTSD.
Bucky crossed the room and dropped his bag on the other bed. Sam noticed that Bucky used his metal hand to pull the comforter, apparently too exhausted to use his right arm. He grabbed one of the pillows and tossed it to the floor at the foot of the bed. Then with a swift yank he pulled the blanket off the bed and tossed it next to the pillow.
“You know, one of these days you’re gonna have to learn how to actually sleep in a bed,” Sam said teasingly. “You know, like the rest of us human beings.”
“Whatever,” Bucky mumbled as he plopped down on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“You mind if I take first crack at the bathroom?” Sam asked.
Bucky waved a dismissive hand as permission.
Sam couldn’t have been in the bathroom for more than five minutes. When he came out, he saw that Bucky had shucked his jacket, shirt and boots and had sprawled out on the floor, already out cold.
“Guess you got a super bladder too,” Sam mumbled, chuckling to himself.
Sam unlaced and then toed off his boots, but didn’t bother with any of the rest of his clothes. He hit the lights and then stumbled over to his bed. A few minutes later he was fast asleep.
XxXxX
Sam was a fairly light sleeper. So when he drifted back to consciousness hours later his first reaction was annoyance, knowing that anything from gunshots in the next room to someone walking with slightly heavy footsteps past the door could have woken him.
Sam squinted around the room blearily to confirm that the world did not appear to be ending before he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. But just as he was drifting off, a shuffling noise roused him again. He was so tempted to put a pillow over his head and ignore the noise. But it was too close for comfort and so with an effort he forced his eyes back open.
At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of place. When he heard the noise again, he pushed himself up on an elbow to try and get a better look around. He could just glimpse the bottom of the blanket that Bucky was using, his feet shifting underneath it. Sam reached out and switched on the small reading lamp at his bedside and then sat up further, leaning forward to try and get a look at Bucky.
The blanket that Bucky had pulled from the bed was tangled around his legs. He was laying on his back, a sheen of sweat covering his skin as he gasped shallowly for breath. His right arm lay across his chest, his right hand reaching for his left shoulder, while his metal arm lay unmoving next to him. His head lulled from one side to the other, his brow furrowed and his muscles tense.
“Bucky?” Sam said quietly.
There was, of course, no response. For a minute, Sam just watched Bucky as he debated what he should do. Would it be worse to wake a paranoid super soldier in the middle of a night terror, or let the terror play out?
In the end, the decision was made for him.
With a choking cry, Bucky’s upper body suddenly surged up as his eyes snapped open, wide and terrified. Sam was immediately scrambling out of bed, adrenaline washing away any lingering drowsiness he had been feeling.
“Bucky!” Sam called, stopped short when Bucky didn’t look at him.
He was sitting up, his right hand pressed against his upper left chest as he gasped for breath, his eyes pinned unseeing straight in front of him. For a long moment, nothing moved and the only sound was Bucky’s slightly keening breaths as his chest heaved.
“Bucky?” Sam tried again, more gently this time as he took a cautious step forward. “You hear me?”
For a moment, Bucky just continued to gasp for breath and stare straight ahead. Then he finally turned his head, blinking several times before he seemed to recognize who he was looking at.
“Sam?” His voice was thin and unsteady.
“You had a nightmare, Buck,” Sam explained to him as he knelt down a generous distance away.
It took Bucky a beat to seem to absorb this information. Finally he let out a sigh of relief as his muscles relaxed as his right hand dropped down into his lap.
“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled. “For waking you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam assured him. “Are you okay?”
Bucky nodded, but he still seemed to be unsteady. Sam watched him carefully. His breathing was calming down and his muscles had relaxed. But something still seemed off. Sam couldn’t help but notice that Bucky’s left arm -- the prosthetic made out of vibranium -- still hadn’t moved and just hung limply at his side. And then Bucky shifted and Sam glimpsed a streak of red.
“Are you bleeding,” Sam asked as he took a step closer to get a better look.
Bucky looked down at himself curiously, but didn’t need to answer. Sam had shifted around to get a better look at Bucky’s bare chest. There were three lines of blood running down his left side. Sam traced the lines up with his eyes. The blood was coming from three wounds that look for all the world like claw marks that started right where the metal of his shoulder met his flesh and tore across his collarbone.
“Hang on,” Sam said as his brain immediately jumped into medic mode.
He stood up and went into the bathroom, flipping on the water while he grabbed a hand towel. He gave the water a minute to warm up before he ran the tower under it, soaking it through before wringing it out so that it was damp but not dripping. Then he headed back out into the room, flipping on the big overhead light as he passed by so that he could see better. Bucky visibly flinched when the light came on.
“Sorry, shoulda warned you,” Sam said about the light as he knelt down next to Bucky.
Bucky didn’t respond. Sam placed the damp towel over the scratches, keeping his hand flat against it. Then he placed his other hand behind Bucky’s shoulder and pressed his hands inward in order to get pressure on the wounds.
“It’s not bad,” Bucky said hollowly. As Sam looked over at him, he saw that Bucky was staring down at his bloodied fingers. “It’ll heal.”
“Doesn’t hurt to help it along,” Sam pointed out, keeping firm pressure on the wounds.
They lapsed into silence for several minutes. Finally, Sam released the pressure and peeling the towel away to get a look at the wounds. The first thing he ascertained was that they were superficial wounds. Even if Bucky wasn’t a super soldier, they would heal up fine with some antiseptic and time.
The next thing he noticed was that these were not the only wounds like this on Bucky’s chest. In fact, now that he was looking closely, there were dozens of scars that mirrored these scratches etched into Bucky’s skin. The scars were at varying angles and lengths, they were also at various stages of fading away due to the amount of time that had passed, but they all had one thing in common. They all started at Bucky’s shoulder, right where the metal met his flesh.
This was not the first time this had happened.
“Bucky…” Sam started softly, but then realized that he didn’t know what he could possibly say.
Bucky's gaze drifted toward his shoulder. “First time I woke up with that thing… I tried to get it off.”
Bucky used his prosthetic arm so naturally, that Sam often forward that it wasn’t a willing choice he had made. His first metal arm had been cruelly fused to his arm against his will by Hydra. Sam’s stomach dropped as that realization finally hit him.
“Is that what your nightmare was about?” Sam asked gently.
Bucky nodded. “At that point I already had whatever knock off of the super soldier serum they made in my system. So, there was no anesthetic during the operation. Not that they would have bothered even if they could.”
“Jesus,” Sam hissed. He had no idea. “Did Steve know?”
Bucky shook his head. “I… couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I knew it would be too hard on him. And anyway… what does it matter now?”
“It matters,” Sam insisted gently. “What you went through matters. Keeping it bottled up can be like poison, you know?” Bucky looked at him, and Sam could tell he was sizing him up. “You can tell me, if you want.”
“Think you can handle it?” Bucky asked, a note of self deprecation in his voice.
“Probably not,” Sam said with a shrug as he settled down and leaned back against the bed behind him. “I have a feeling it's gonna make me want to go back in time and kill all those sonsofbitches myself. Which I’m sure Doctor Strange will frown on. But tell me anyway.”
Bucky took in a shuddering breath as he curled the fingers of his right hand into a fist. “I don’t know how I lost my arm in that fall. I think maybe I tried to grab onto something, maybe a tree branch or something? All I really remember is that bar breaking off the train… and then I woke up and I was being dragged through the snow. The pain was so overwhelming that any time I hit any bump it would send me spiralling into unconsciousness.”
He paused and swallowed thickly, his eyes cloudy. “It took them a few tries to get one that worked. At first they just tried to replace that part I lost, but I guess they couldn’t really integrate it into me well enough from the elbow down. So they took off the rest of my arm and tried from the shoulder.”
“Wait,” Sam found himself saying as he fought the urge to vomit. “They… they amputated…?”
“I only lost from the elbow down in the fall,” Bucky said so quietly he was almost whispering. “Hydra eventually decided to amputate the rest.”
Sam hadn’t known that. Nobody had known that. Everyone had just assumed that Bucky had lost his whole arm in the fall and Hydra had used the opportunity to turn him into a more dangerous weapon for them. And really, that had been bad enough.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, even though that seemed like a wildly insufficient response. But he had no idea what he could say. His eyes drifted back to Bucky’s left arm, which still hadn’t moved. It was almost as if Bucky had forgotten it was there. Or maybe he didn’t want it to be there. “You ever… think about taking it off?” Sam asked carefully, unsure if he was crossing a line with the suggestion. “So you wouldn’t have the reminder?”
Bucky looked down at his arm and seemed to realize what Sam had already noticed. “I did with the old one. Of course, that one didn’t have that option.” He paused and finally lifted his left hand, carefully flexing the fingers. “This one… feels more like a gift than a burden.”
“I’m glad,” Sam said. “I’m glad the Wakandans were able to do that for you. I’m glad you finally got a choice.”
The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched upward as he watched the vibranium prosthetic move. “Me too.”
Author’s Note: PLEASE READ! Okay, I just want everyone to be aware that this story got DARK! Not really sure where it came from, but this is probably the darkest whump I’ve written for this whole challenge. I would say it was because my power went out and I wrote most of this while sitting in a dark house on a rainy night, but really I was already going in that direction before I lost power, lol! There isn’t anything explicit and what really happened is up to the reader’s interpretation, but just to be extra careful I want to say that especially if you are sensitive to things like allusions to sexual assault, please proceed with caution!
Day Twenty-Seven
I’m Fine. I Prom…
Passing Out | Vertigo | Collapse
BAM! … BAM! BAM! BAM!
The gun clicked uselessly three more times before Bucky really comprehended that it was empty. The man had been instantly killed by the first shot to the head, but Bucky had mechanically continued to pull the trigger, burying every last bullet into the man. Bucky glanced around the room, feeling detached as he took stock of everybody around him. They were all dead. He had killed every last one of them.
The gun fell out of Bucky’s loosened grip, clattering loudly to the floor, seeming to echo throughout the otherwise silent room. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he stood there before he realized he needed to move. He took one step. Then another. Then another. His footsteps echoed back to him, and he vaguely was aware that the cadence was unsteady. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Everything was absolutely still as he walked through that facility. It hadn’t been enough for him to escape. He had tracked down each and every motherfucker in that facility and killed them on sight. He probably should feel something about that fact. After all, he wasn’t supposed to be that kind of weapon anymore. But he felt nothing.
He finally made his way outside, finding that it was heavily overcast and a mist-like rain fell over the building. Bucky stopped a few feet from the door, the cool rain feeling good against his skin. The sensation brought a little bit of reality back to him and he was suddenly aware of a burning ache in his right shoulder.
And suddenly he realized he had no idea where he was. Bucky had been heavily drugged by his kidnappers and he had no memory of arriving at this facility. Was he still in the state? Was he still in the country?
He looked up with glassy eyes as a strange movement caught at his attention. He stared and it took him much longer to realize that it was Sam flying toward him. He stoically tracked Sam’s flight as he took a lap over the facility before circling back around and landing a few feet from where Bucky stood rooted to the spot.
“Bucky? Sam asked unsteadily.
Bucky vaguely wondered what Sam was thinking. He was staring at him with wide eyes. Could he tell? Did he know just by looking at him just how far into the realm of the Winter Soldier Bucky had fallen?
“Bucky?” Sam asked again, taking a cautious step forward. As if Bucky were dangerous or unpredictable.
Good. That’s how it should be.
“I… killed them,” Bucky heard himself say.
Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Bucky, are you okay?”
That didn’t matter. “I killed them. All of them.”
“Bucky, are you hurt?” Sam pressed. He took another step forward and Bucky took a step back.
It wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe.
“I’m tired, Sam,” Bucky whispered.
It was more than just a physical exhaustion. He was mentally exhausted. Tired of being hunted. Tired of being a prize that people wanted to win. Tired of being used as a pawn in other peoples’ games. Tired of being shuffled from one fight to the next and from one crisis to another. All he wanted was some rest. But it apparently just wasn’t in the cards for him.
“It’s okay, Bucky,” Sam said as he put out a placating hand. “Please, let me help you.”
Bucky shook his head. He didn’t deserve Sam’s help. He had just proven himself to be every bit the monster every corrupt organization wanted him to be.
Suddenly the world seemed to sway unsteadily around him. The ground under his feet felt soft and unstable. He was vaguely aware that the soft mist had grown into a steady rain. He looked up, letting the rain hit his face and run down his cheeks. And then the world pitched sharply and the ground seemed to drop out from under him. He felt his knees hit something hard and then hands were on his shoulders, trying to steady him and the world turned to grey and began to fade away.
“Bucky, it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay.”
XxXxX
Bucky’s eyes snapped open, immediately looking around to try and figure out where he was. The surroundings weren’t immediately familiar to him, which made his heart start pumping quicker as his muscles tense.
“You’re okay, Buck.” Bucky’s eyes swung over to the side of the bed he was laying in to find Sam sitting in a chair watching over him warily. “You’re safe. We’re at my sister’s house.”
That wasn’t comforting though. “Is she here? And your nephews?”
Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. “They’re around here somewhere. Why?”
Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, reaching up to scrub and hand over his face. “I shouldn’t be here, it isn’t safe for them.” He started to push himself up, but Sam stood and put a hand firmly on Bucky’s shoulder, pushing him back down.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam demanded, his voice strained with something that Bucky couldn’t quite identify. “You’re never had a problem being around my family before.”
Bucky took in a shuddering break. “I… snapped, Sam,” he admitted quietly as he determinedly stared straight up at the ceiling. He hated saying it, but Sam needed to understand why he shouldn’t be here. “After I escaped… I could have left. Gotten help and sent the authorities in after them. Hell, I could have incapacitated them. But I went around that entire facility and made sure to kill every last human being I could find.” His voice was tight and strained. “It was exactly what the Winter Soldiers would do.”
There was a long pause that hung heavily in the room.
“Bucky, look at me.” Everything in Bucky froze. “Please, Buck. Look at me.”
Finally, Bucky mechanically turned his head. Sam had sat back down in the chair next to the bed and was leaning over with his forearms braced on his thighs.
“We know who took you. While we tracked you down, we learned everything we could about that organization. The things they do to people…” his voice trailed off as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Bucky looked away as his stomach churned. He swallowed thickly, hoping that he wouldn’t get sick. Sam reached out and placed a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder, drawing his gaze back to him. “You did what you had to do, Bucky. You did the right thing. None of those people deserved to live. The world is better off without them in it.”
Bucky suddenly felt short of breath and his vision blurred. He thought something was wrong before he realized that there were tears in his eyes.
Sam squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Bucky immediately shook his head, the motion sending several tears streaking down his cheeks. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to forget it ever happened.
“That’s okay,” Sam assured him. “You don’t have to talk about it. But if you ever do, I’m here for you. Okay?”
Bucky took in another shuddering breath and he struggled to reel in his overflowing emotions. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrist, using the contact to ground himself.
“You had a few injuries that we patched up,” Sam said softly. “Nothing major. But mentally and emotionally, you got some healing to do. For now the best thing you can do is get some rest. Okay, Buck?”
Bucky swallowed thickly and then nodded. Sam took his hand off of Bucky’s shoulder and flipped it so that he could hold Bucky’s hand. Bucky gripped Sam’s hand like a lifeline, more grateful than he had ever been to have someone like Sam in his life. Maybe he would get through this afterall, he thought dimly as he drifted off to sleep.
The ice on the bridge didn’t help anything as Bucky and Sam took on a group of arms dealers in the middle of their convoy.
“Careful, Buck!” Sam called as Bucky stumbled while dodging a blow while Sam swooped by overhead.
“Not all of us get to fly over this shit,” Bucky yelled back as he took his attacker out with a swift blow to the face.
“Five hostels left,” Sam reported as he also took out another.
“Pretty sure there were five left three takedowns ago,” Bucky griped as he focused on his next attacker.
“What do you want from me, they had more guys in the truck,” Sam said as he took down two more attackers. “Down to three.
“I make two,” Bucky said as he took out another.
He spun around to find his next target… when a fist slammed into his face. Bucky went stumbling backward, struggling with his footing as he overbalanced on the ice. Another hard hit and Bucky’s lower back hit the safety rail behind him, and suddenly he was flipping over the barrier and falling into the open air below.
Bucky was vaguely aware of Sam yelling his name as he flailed around in an attempt to get his feet under him. He only managed to get part way around, his right shoulder and hip leading as he hit the frozen river below. The impact was like a truck crashing through a cement wall and Bucky was swallowed up into the surging water below the frozen surface.
The frigid water stole his breath and clawed at his exposed skin as it rushed him head over heels downriver until he didn’t know which way was up. Bucky tried to squint through the water, but the rapids under the ice churned the water up too much to be able to see much of anything. He reached out wildly, trying desperately to find the surface as he was rushed along.
Finally, his fingers brushed a slick, solid surface that had to be the ice. His hands scrabbled along the smooth surface, trying to find anything he could hold onto. At one point the fingers of his right hand snagged on a dip in the ice formation, struggling to hold a grip as the water tried to pull him away. He swung desperately with his left arm to try and break the ice, but he had no leverage. As his fist connected with the ice, instead of pushing up on the ice the motion only served to push him down. He lost his precarious grip and was yanked downriver once again.
His vision started to dim. His arms were getting too heavy to lift and suddenly his feet wouldn’t kick. This was it, he thought dimly. This was how he was going to die.
And then there was an explosion of light and two hands snagged him over his arms and yanked him up. Bucky came up through the new hole on the ice coughing and wheezing as he desperately tried to get air into his starved lungs.
“Easy, try to take it easy.” Sam’s low voice rumbled through Bucky, and he belatedly realized it was because Bucky’s head was resting against Sam’s chest.
Bucky struggled to take in his surroundings. They were on dry land and Bucky’s legs were collapsed underneath him while he shivered so violently it was more like spasms. Sam’s arms were wrapped firmly around him, pressing him close to his chest as he rubbed his back firmly.
“Wha… wha…?” Bucky mumbled, not even really sure what he was trying to say. His brain felt like it was filled with a thick fog and he was struggling to string together a complete thought.
“You’re okay now,” Sam assured him calmly. “You fell into the river, was in there for maybe five minutes before I was able to find you under the ice. That river was moving a lot faster than I thought it would. You’re likely hypothermic, but you’re gonna be okay.”
Bucky blinked blearily as he struggled to absorb what Sam was telling him. Bucky’s breaths were frustratingly shallow and his lungs were still aching, causing his breaths to quicken in a panic. Why wasn’t he getting enough air, was he still suffocating, was he still dying?
“It’s okay, Buck, it’s okay,” Sam continued to assure him. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay now. I got you.”
Bucky finally managed to suck in a decent shuddering breath, and his panic about not being able to get enough air finally started to wane. He was okay. Sam was here. Sam had saved him.
“Okay, let’s get back to the safehouse,” Sam said as he lifted Bucky into his arms and stood up. “You need some dry clothes and some rest and you’ll be good as new. Promise.”
Author’s Note: Just a heads up, I took some artistic liberties with Bucky’s childhood. According to MCU canon he is the oldest of four, but there are no other details given. So I had some fun playing in the sandbox ;)
Day Twenty-Five
Alternative Prompt #5
Forgotten
It was a sunny spring day in Louisiana, where Sam and Bucky could be found in the belly of the Wilson family boat. Sarah had been having some issues with it over the last week, so the two came down to visit and see if they could fix it.
“You figure it out yet?” Sam asked Bucky, who was crouched under the mechanism for the water pump.
“Not yet,” Bucky grumbled.
“You better hurry it up,” Sam said playfully. “Sarah wants this done today so she can get back to work tomorrow.”
“Has she always been this much of a tyrant?” Bucky asked with a laugh.
“Ever since we were kids,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Used to drive me crazy. Little girl just loved telling me what to do. Were any of your siblings like that?” Bucky didn’t answer as he reached under the mechanism, trying to reach something to adjust it. “You had siblings growing up, right?” Sam pressed.
“Uh…” Bucky hedged unsteadily as he worked. “Yeah.”
“How many was it?” Sam asked, trying to remember back to the Smithsonian display he had once read about Bucky’s history. “Two, three?”
There was an awkward pause, Bucky’s eyes determinedly down at the task at hand. “Yeah.”
Sam looked over at him, confused. “Yeah, what?”
“Yeah… two or three,” Bucky said flatly. “Can you hand me that screwdriver?”
Sam openly stared at Bucky, who was holding his hand out to his, but still refused to look at him. “You don’t remember?”
There was another long pause. Bucky was frozen in place, his hand still out for the screwdriver, but his eyes were distant. Then he sighed, dropping his hand as he stood up, worrying at his right palm with his left thumb.
“I’m a hundred and six years old, Sam,” he said, his voice sounding strangely detached. “Can’t remember everything. I’m going for a walk.” He pushed past Sam and headed back up the stairs to the deck.
For a moment, Sam didn’t move. Then he remembered himself as he hurried up the stairs after Bucky.
“Hey, hey wait,” Sam demanded as he caught up to him and grabbed his arm, bringing him to a stop. “I’m sorry. I thought… I thought your memories came back when you left Hydra?”
Bucky sighed heavily. “It’s… it’s very hit or miss,” he admitted, still not meeting Sam’s gaze. “A lot of the war came back. But not a lot from before that did. Just… random bits and pieces.”
“I didn’t know that,” Sam said, now feeling guilty for bringing it up.
Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, it does,” Sam insisted.
Bucky finally looked up at him and met his gaze for the first time. Sam’s heart twisted at what he saw in that gaze. Bucky still looked so broken, but more than that… he looked lost. He pulled out of Sam’s grip and went over to sit on the edge of the boat. Sam carefully followed him, standing nearby.
“Once I escaped Hydra and started to get my free will back… some memories filtered back,” Bucky said. “I remembered Steve…but I remembered him as this short, skinny kid. And I had no idea why I remembered him like that. I had to go to the Smithsonian and read his story to begin to understand it. And then… and then I had to read my story.” Bucky threaded his figures together and leaned forward. “I memorized it. I would repeat it over and over in my head. For the longest time the words had only a vague familiarity. I think it was about a year before I could start to add any extra details to the words that I had read in that museum.”
“I had no idea you went through all that,” Sam admitted. “I’m sorry. That sounds like a nightmare.”
“I remember every single detail from every kill I did for Hydra,” Bucky went on, sounding empty. “I remember how every one of them died, I remember the looks on their faces, I remember every word they said as they begged me to spare them. But…” Bucky hands tightened on each other and his voice shook as he continued, “I don’t remember how many siblings I had. I don’t remember what color my mother’s hair was or what my father’s name was. I don’t remember if I had any hobbies or if I played any sports.”
“Hey,” Sam said gently as he sat next to Bucky and placed a hand on his shoulder. Bucky was trembling under his touch. “Just take it easy for a minute, okay? How about you tell me something you do remember?”
Bucky took in a shuddering breath. “I… I remember I had a sister,” he said, his voice small. “Her name was… Rebecca.” He paused, licking his lips. “And… I also had a brother.” He squinted. “I… I think his name started with a C…”
“Calvin, Christopher, Clint,” Sam guessed, hoping one might help jog Bucky’s memory. “Carl, Charlie, Clyde --”
Bucky’s eyes darted over to him as he perked up slightly. “Charlie.”
Sam smiled. “Yeah? Alright, so you had at least two siblings, Rebecca and Charlie.”
Bucky nodded, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Steve used to help a lot. He would prompt a memory, bringing up something we did as kids and… I could usually get there eventually, if I thought about it enough.”
“Oh,” was all that Sam could say.
Sam knew that Bucky missed Steve something fierce. He knew that Steve had talked over his plans with Bucky and Bucky had given him his blessing… but it was still a painful loss for him. Steve was the only person that Bucky didn’t feel out of place with. And this new information just added another layer to that pain.
Sam kept one hand on Bucky’s shoulder as he took out his smartphone. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, apparently lost in thought. It took Sam several minutes of searching a secured archive, but he finally found what he was looking for.
“You had three siblings,” Sam said. Bucky whipped his head around to stare at Sam in surprise. “There was Rebecca and Charlie… and also Andrew.”
Bucky stared at him for a long time. And then a careful smile spread across his features. “We… called him Andy.”
Sam smiled as he consulted his phone again. “You were born in 1917… Charlie was born in 1921, Rebecca was born in 1923 and Andy was born in… wow. 1932?”
Bucky laughed lightly. “We also called him the whoopsie baby.” His gaze got distant again, but this time it was more wistful than lost. “Charlie and I used to give Becca so much crap because she got her own room, even after the baby came. Used to call her Princess Becca. She hated it. One time she about knocked my front teeth out over it. She had a hell of a right hook.”
“Sounds a lot like my sister,” Sam said with a grin. He put his phone down so he could focus on Bucky. “You don’t have to pretend the past doesn’t exist anymore just ‘cause Steve left. I know I’m not as good as Steve, but you can always talk to me about things that you remember and even things you can’t remember. I can always try and track down some answers for you.” Bucky just nodded as he swallowed thickly. “Who you were as a kid is important,” Sam went on firmly. “It matters who you were before Hydra got a hold of you. Who you were is what makes you human.”
Bucky took in a sharp breath at that. He blinked rapidly and Sam could see that his eyes were suddenly bright with tears that he tried to hold back. He scrubbed his right hand over his face, trying to subtly rub at his eyes, but several tears still escaped.
Sam moved his hand from Bucky’s shoulder, winding it around his back. Bucky usually wasn’t one for any kind of physical contact, but to Sam’s surprise he leaned in to Sam’s one armed embrace. They stayed like that for a long time.
“It’s okay, Buck,” Sam assured him gently. “I got you.”
Self-Induced Injuries to Escape | Flashback | Revenge
“Sonofabitch,” Bucky groaned as he tried to find a decent angle. Of course, there simply wasn’t one. He grudgingly had to admit these captors had done a damn good job of restraining him.
“Any luck?” Sam called from his cell across the hall from Bucky. The cells were made of cement with heavy metals doors, so they couldn’t see each other, but they could hear each other through the small openings in the door that were set at eye level.
“Oh yeah,” Bucky ground out as he shifted around. His hands were chained behind his back, those chains connected to another chain that was bolted into the cement wall at the back of the cell. The chain connected to the wall was mounted up about even with Bucky’s shoulders, pulling his hands up behind him at an awkward angle. “I got out, took a couple laps, and then strung myself back up, just for fun.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Sam grumbled.
Bucky hung his head as he took a moment to catch his breath. Damnit. Sam had told him he was also chained up in his cell, though not as uncomfortably as Bucky was. If they were going to get out of this before their captors came back, it was up to Bucky.
Bucky took a deep breath as he stood up as straight as he could, though even when he did his hands were still uncomfortably high behind him. Despite that, he concentrated all his energy into pulling his hands apart, groaning with the effort. The metal of the heavy cuffs bit hard into his flesh wrist as he continued to pull with every muscle he was able to. The groan grew into a yell of frustration as he pulled as hard as he possibly could… but those cuffs would not budge. When Bucky finally couldn’t hold it any longer and his muscles released, he gasped for breath as he fell back against the wall with a flurry of cursing.
“Still no--”
“I swear to god, Sam,” Bucky snapped.
“Okay, okay, sorry,” Sam allowed.
Bucky let out a frustrated huff. He knew that Sam felt helpless and he knew if it were him who could only sit quietly and wait for someone else to save his ass, he’d be annoying as hell too.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Sam asked cautiously.
“All ears,” Bucky said, though he couldn’t imagine that Sam could have any useful advice considering he couldn’t even see Bucky’s predicament.
“Just take a minute,” Sam said. “Take several deep breaths and don’t try anything else for a minute. Then, really think about the mechanics of the chains. Just close your eyes and picture it. It might help you figure out a new angle.”
Bucky sighed heavily. “Worth a shot.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. And then another. Then, in his mind’s eye, he pictured the restraints. He mentally traced each chain and how one connected with the next. He saw that there was no possible way that he would be able to get enough momentum and strength to pull his hands apart.
But… maybe he was focused on the wrong part of the restraint. Instead of focusing on his hands, maybe he should focus on the chain that was attached to the wall behind him.
“I got an idea,” Bucky said, a note of surprise in his voice as his eyes flew open.
Bucky moved as close to the wall as he could, relieving as much pressure as he was able to. He took several more deep breaths as he stretched his neck from one side to the other and shrugged his shoulders, trying to loosen up his aching muscles a little bit.
He lifted his right foot and placed it flat against the wall behind him. He experimentally put some pressure on it, pushing out away from the wall. He knew the angle was going to be too low. He went up on his toes so he could top his right foot up behind him a little more and then pushed against the wall again. It was better, the chain that connected to the wall wasn’t at quite as harsh of an angle.
This was going to be their best shot.
Bucky took one more deep breath and then pushed as hard as he could with his right foot. His thigh muscles burned, his shoulders ached, his wristed screamed in protest… but that damn chain did not budge. He didn’t let up though. Instead, using the leverage he now had with one foot up on the wall, he was able to get his other foot up and work it up until it was beside the first.
Now he was pushing straight out from the wall with both legs as hard as he possibly could. He shifted his shoulders and his wrists this way and that, repositioned his feet further down and then further up, then to one side and the side, trying desperately to get the leverage he needed, all while pulling and pushing with everything he had.
This was their last chance.
Bucky pushed as hard as he could, and when it still didn’t budge, he pushed even harder. He yelled out animalistically with the effort, every muscle burning and begging him to stop and give up, but he refused. He just kept telling himself that this was it, this was their last chance, if he couldn’t get out now he would fail, he wouldn’t be able to save Sam, he wouldn’t be able to…
CRACK!
Several things happened simultaneously. There was a loud cracking noise followed by smaller cracks and the sound of something crumbling. There was an explosion of pain so intense that he had no idea where it was radiating from. And suddenly he was flying through the air and then landed hard on the cold concrete floor half on his face and half on one shoulder.
For several long moments he had no other thoughts outside of the pain that consumed him. But then, very slowly, the rest of the world began to come back to him.
“Bucky! Bucky can you hear me!? Answer me, damnit, are you okay!?”
Bucky groaned as he blinked and struggled to comprehend what just happened. Then he finally realized he was no longer standing up, but instead laying on the floor. His hands were still restrained behind him, but he was laying far enough away from the wall he figured the chain that connected him to that wall had to have broken. He shifted so he could glance back at the wall and found a large chunk had been ripped right out of it and the area around that chunk had crumbled.
“Shit,” Bucky murmured, honestly mesmerized. It had actually worked.
“Are you okay?” Sam demanded.
“I uh…” Bucky said as he took a moment to assess himself. For a moment it seemed like other than some aches and pains, he appeared to be in decent shape. But then he went to roll himself over onto his side… and a raw scream of agony suddenly clawed its way out of his throat. Bucky clamped his jaw down to try and stifle the noise, dulling the scream to a groan that still ground itself out between his teeth.
“Bucky!” Sam shouted, sounding helpless and maybe even a little afraid. “You gotta tell me what’s happening over there, man!”
Bucky swallowed thickly as his brain finally caught up with himself. He shifted around a little, testing his muscles in order to confirm what he suspected.
“Broke the chain,” Bucky managed, his voice thick with pain. “But I… I think I dislocated my shoulder.”
“Shit,” Sam hissed. “How bad is it?”
“Hurts like a… motherfucker…” Bucky said as he carefully leveraged himself up to his knees using only his legs and his left arm, gasping and swallowing back groans of pain as he did.
“Are you able to get outta that cell?” Sam asked.
“Hang on,” Bucky murmured. “Got one more thing to do first.”
It was an agonizing process, Bucky hissing and cursing all the way through it, but he managed to thread his bound hands underneath his butt and out past his feet, which he had as close to his body as he was able to, so that his hands were now in front of him. He took a moment to attempt to catch his breath, panting hard as he rode out the waves of pain.
This next part was gonna suck.
He hunched over so that he could put his foot on his right forearm in an attempt to keep it as steady as he could. He took a deep breath… and yanked his left arm away from the right as hard as he could. The cuffs that held his hands together snapped, but the accompanying jolt of pain drew a hissing groan from Bucky.
“Bucky, you’re killin’ me over there,” Sam said with exasperation.
“Keep your pants on, I’m comin’,” Bucky said as he finally pushed himself up to his feet.
He swayed unsteadily and had to brace his metal hand on the wall next to the door for a moment. He glanced over at his right arm, the shoulder sickeningly sitting several inches below where it should have been.
He steeled himself, knowing he was wasting far too much time. He straightened up, and with three well placed punches he was able to knock his cell door off its hinges. He strode across the hallway and before he lost his momentum he started on Sam’s cell door. This time it took his four punches before the thing finally fell in.
“It’s about damn time,” Sam said, with a small smirk. He was sitting against the back wall of the cell, his hands cuffed behind him and his ankles also cuffed.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he paused to catch his breath. “Sorry, your majesty,” he said sarcastically. “Not all of us had the luxury of these weakass restraints.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Sam said. “You just gonna stand there?”
Bucky walked forward and knelt down next to Sam. Despite the playful banted, he didn’t miss the way that Sam watched him carefully, concern growing in his eyes as he took in Bucky’s condition. Bucky reached over with his vibranium hand and easily snapped the chain between the cuffs that held Sam’s hands, then did the same with the cuffs that held his ankles.
“Okay, let me see,” Sam said, immediately going into medic mode as he got up on his knees and looked Bucky over.
“Just need the shoulder reset,” Bucky mumbled. “Everything else is superficial.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, unconvinced. “Here, sit down.” Bucky did as he was told. Sam carefully lifted Bucky’s right forearm, holding the arm at a right angle. He moved the arm a little experimentally, placing his other hand gently on Bucky’s shoulder to track the movement. “Okay, try to relax your muscles.”
That was easier said than done, but Bucky did his best. He closed his eyes and dropped his head as Sam carefully started to rotate Bucky’s bent arm away from his body. Bucky hummed on the pain as Sam had to try several different angles before… pop.
“Better?” Sam asked, still holding Bucky’s arm in place.
Bucky sighed with relief as the pain immediately dulled. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Sure,” Sam said. “Now, ideally I’d tell you to keep it mobilized while it healed… but seeing as we still need to fight our way out of this hell hole, I guess there’s not much use in that.”
Bucky smirked. “I’ll be alright. Worst that’ll happen is you’ll have to pop it back in again.”
“Yeah, I’ll just add that to your bill,” Sam said with a laugh as he stood up. He reached down and took Bucky’s left hand in order to pull him up to his feet. “You ready to teach these sonsofbitches that it’s not nice to kidnap people?”
Because the base was built into an active volcano, it was obvious that it was never meant to be permanent. The volcano had been quiet for sixty years, but it was well known that it wouldn’t remain that way forever. What they hadn’t known was that not only was the base built into the volcano in order to monitor it’s activity -- assumedly to give time for evacuation in the event it decided to erupt -- but also so they could rig up a complication system designed to trigger an eruption.
And rather than allow the base to fall into their enemy’s hands, they had chosen to self destruct. By the time they made it out of the facility, there was too much ash and debris in the sky for Sam to be able to fly them to safety. So now, Sam and Bucky were forced to run for their lives.
“I know you can run faster than that, Buck!” Sam yelled up to Bucky, who was only a few steps ahead of him.
Bucky glared back at him, but didn’t bother to respond. He used the moment to scan behind Sam, spotting a large mass of lava flowing slowly, but steadily down the mountain. Okay, that was something they could handle. The more pressing issue at the moment was the ash hanging in the air. Bucky could already hear Sam starting to wheeze.
“Hang on,” Bucky said as he suddenly skidded to a stop so quickly that Sam practically bowled into him.
“Shit, I’m pretty sure we gotta keep goin’, Buck,” Sam snapped.
“More worried about our lungs than the lava at the moment,” Bucky said as he heaved heavily on the rough air that pressed in on them. He quickly took his jacket off, shucked his shirt and tossed it to Sam. “Tear this into strips,” he instructed as he shrugged back into his thick jacket.
“You put on deodorant?” Sam said testily as he did as he was told.
“Nope,” Bucky said as he zipped his jacket back up to his chin. “But it’s better than pulverized glass in your lungs.”
“That’s up for debate,” Sam deadpanned as he tossed a strip back to Bucky.
They started hurrying down the mountain again as they each tied the strips around the backs of their heads so it would cover their noses and mouths. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would help some anyway.
And suddenly there was an ominous rumbling as the ground under their feet suddenly shook. Bucky whipped around in time to see more lava shooting out the top of the volcano.
“Watch your head, Sam!” Bucky called over the rumbling, that was only getting louder.
Sam raised the shield over his head while Bucky raised his left arm, having to keep one eye on the sky in order to bat away any debris that came too close as they ran. But the rumbling kept getting louder, until it was a deafening roar. Bucky felt a pit as he glanced behind them again… and suddenly it seemed like the earth itself was in pursuit of the two of them as a vicious lahar raced down the mountain like a freight train.
“Fuck!” Bucky hissed as looked desperately for something, anything that would get them out of the lahar’s path.
Because if it reached them, that would be the end of them.
Bucky spotted a steep slope off to his left. He wasn’t sure if it would be tall enough, but it was their best option. He was now coughing painfully on the thick air, and he was relieved when he glanced back and Sam followed him without further instruction. Sam had the shield over his head and his other hand pressed to the cloth that covered his nose and mouth, and Bucky suspected if he could hear anything over the lahar, he would have heard Sam’s choking coughing as well.
Bucky took several steps up the sharp incline and then launched himself up, catching the edge of a ledge with his right hand, still holding his left over his head in an attempt to protect it from falling debris. He hauled himself up onto the ledge and then turned back in time to see Sam’s stumbling at the bottom of the slope. Lack of oxygen must be catching up with him. And with a glance, he could see the violent debris flow, composed of a slurry of pyroclastic material, rocky debris and water, was racing toward Sam at an alarming rate, demolishing boulders in its path like there weren’t even there.
“Sam!” Bucky yelled even though he knew his voice would be swallowed up.
Sam looked up at him, his eyes wide behind his goggles. The debris was beginning to rain down heavier, and Sam tried to keep his shield up as he ran up the slope again. Bucky laid on his stomach and reached down with his right hand, keeping his left over his head, wincing as several rocks the size of fists hit his back and legs. Sam reached up and lunged for Bucky at the same time that Bucky reached down as far as he could… but their fingers barely brushed and Sam went tumbling down the steep slope.
“Shit!” Bucky hissed, as he looked toward the lahar that was barreling toward them. They had twenty seconds, at most.
Bucky brought his feet around over the ledge and shoved himself over it, sliding back down into the ravine, and into the path of the lahar. Sam was crouched at the bottom of the slope, doubled over with one hand pressed up against his chest. As Bucky slid in beside him, he could barely hear the raspy coughing over the din.
“Hang on!” Bucky shouted as he wound one arm around Sam’s waist and grabbed Sam’s closest arm and through it over his shoulders.
And then he was running as hard as he could up the slope, Sam stumbling along beside him as they both wheezed and coughed. Sam thankfully had the presence of mind to cling to Bucky’s shoulders as Bucky reached up and grabbed the ledge. As Bucky hauled them both up onto the ledge, he could feel the heat from the debris flow that lapped at their feet. They rolled away from the ledge and Bucky looked back to see that the lahar just barely didn’t make it up to that same ledge.
Holy shit, that was way too close. But of course they weren’t out of the woods yet.
Sam was trying to struggle up to his knees and lift the shield. Bucky grabbed the shield with his right hand and leaned over Sam, covering him as much as he could with the shield as he held his left hand over the left side of his face that wasn’t protected by the shield.
And then, all they could do was wait and hope that another lava flow or lahar would find them.
Hours later, when rescue was finally able to reach them, it was discovered that they had managed to find one of the few spots within miles that managed to stay above any lava damage. They both had to be treated with oxygen and a bronchoscopy to clear the ash that had coated their throats. But ultimately, they were both able to make full recoveries.
All in all, they had both gotten incredibly and almost impossibly lucky that day.
Three days. It had been three of the longest days of Sam’s life. It had been three days since Sam had found out that Bucky was missing. Three days of searching desperately, tracking down every lead, running into deadend after deadend. Sam slept only an hour now and again when his body just physically couldn’t stay awake one more second.
And finally, at long last, he found him. Bucky had been taken by yet another dark organization that wanted to reawaken the Winter Soldier.
Sam stormed the compound on his own, guns blazing, much more vicious than he usually was. After all, an organization that was able to contain Bucky Barnes for three days was extremely dangerous. He made his way quickly for the facility, incapacitating every person he saw and searching every room he came across.
He had to be here, he just had to be here…
Sam was making his way through the basement and he burst into a room in the center of the compound. At a glance, he could tell this was a laboratory of some sort. He moved through the large room, taking down guards and knocking out scientists.
And finally, he saw the figure laying on the table on the far end of the lab.
Sam honestly barely remembered how he got across the room. All he knew is suddenly he was standing over Bucky and every other person in that room had been knocked unconscious.
“Bucky? Bucky, can you hear me?” Sam said.
Bucky lay limply on the table, his eyes only half open as his head lulled listlessly from one side to the other. There were thick strips of leather with heavy metal buckets that were strapped over his shoulders, chest, thighs and calves. Sam stared confused for a moment. That shouldn’t be nearly enough to hold a super soldier. And then he saw the IV drip.
“Jesus,” Sam hissed. That had to be a hell of a drug to keep Bucky half conscious like he was. “Hang on, Buck.”
Sam hurried around the table and quickly removed the IV tube from his arm. He vaguely noticed that it was a bit larger than a normal IV tube. Then he quickly began removing the straps.
“Bucky?” Sam said. “Hey, Buck. You hear me?”
Bucky’s lips moved slightly, and Sam had to lean in order to hear what he was saying.
““Barnes, James Buchanan... Sergeant... 32557038. Barnes, James Buchanan... Sergeant... 32557038...”
“Bucky,” Sam said. “Bucky, it’s me, it’s Sam. C’mon, man, look at me.”
Bucky blinked a few times, the fog in his gaze clearly slightly as the super soldier serum began to burn through whatever they put in his system. “...Steve?”
Sam’s heart twisted at the quiet, unsteady question. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Thankfully, Bucky blinked a few more times and seemed to come around a little more.
“Sam?”
Sam swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. It’s me. Can you sit up, Buck?”
Bucky leaned up and Sam wound an arm around his shoulders so he could help leverage him up and then helped him turn so his legs dangled off the table. As he moved, Bucky looked around, taking in the details around him. And just before Sam helped him to his feet, he paused. Bucky was shaking.
“Bucky, are you hurt?” Sam asked as he looked him up and down for some injury that he had missed.
Bucky shook his head once. “No, I… I don’t think so…” He was suddenly starting to pant for breath.
Sam struggled to hide his panic. Were the drugs in his system somehow getting worse instead of better?
“It’s… like before…”
“What?” Sam said.
Bucky was still shaking, his gaze had pinned itself to the middle distance, like he was somewhere else altogether. “1943. The first time… Zola…”
And finally, it clicked. This situation was just like the first time Bucky was captured by Hydra back in 1943. And in Sam’s professional opinion as someone who worked for years at the VA… that had to be traumatizing as fuck.
“Hey, look at me,” Sam said, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky’s eyes continued to dart anxiously around the lab. “Bucky. Look at me.” Finally, Bucky’s gaze settled on Sam. “I want you to take a deep breath.” After a pause, Bucky did as he was told. “Okay. Now, who am I?”
“Sam,” Bucky said.
“That’s right. I’m Sam. This isn’t Hydra and this isn’t 1943. These assholes accomplished nothing and we are getting the hell outta here no worse for the wear. Right?”
Bucky took a steadying breath. He still looked shaken, but he seemed a little more grounded than he had a minute ago. “Right. Yeah, right.”
“Alright, c’mon,” Sam urged as he helped Bucky slide off the table.
He swayed unsteadily, still disoriented, and Sam kept a hand on his arm as Bucky got his bearings. But Bucky continued to hesitate as he looked around the lab. Sam felt nervous, wondering if something was going to trigger him again.
“You couldn’t… leave me one to put my fist through,” Bucky said, motioning to the unconscious guards and scientists.
Sam laughed. “Nope, that was my avenging spree. But I may not have gotten to everyone upstairs. We can always do another sweep on our way out and see if we can find some avenging for you.”
Bucky smiled menacingly. “It would be rude not to.”
Sam’s voice was cut off as the world in front of Bucky suddenly exploded. On instinct, Bucky got his metal arm up in front of his face, but the blast was still enough to send him flying backward. A split second later, his back hit something hard and unforgiving, and then his head snapped back.
And then there was only darkness.
The world came back to Bucky slowly, one sense at a time. The first thing he knew was the horrific pounding in his head, like someone was taking a sledgehammer to the back of his skull. The next thing he was aware of was the smell of copper and smoke in the air, which was quickly followed by a sour, coppery taste in his mouth. And then, a voice finally filtered through the fog.
“Bucky! Bucky, can you hear me? Bucky, wake up damnit!”
“Jesus,” Bucky croaked, “keep it… keep it down, wouldya?”
There was a sigh of relief, and when Sam spoke again he had thankfully lowered his voice. “Can you open your eyes?”
It seemed like a lot of effort, but Bucky didn’t want Sam to start raising his voice again if he didn’t at least try. It took a long moment, but Bucky finally managed to pry his eyelids open… only to groan and slam them shut again as a bright light sent a shot of pain through his eyeballs and throughout his brain.
“Okay, easy, just hang on a second,” Sam said.
Bucky kept his eyes closed as Sam slid an arm under his shoulders and lifted his upper body up. Even with his eyes closed, somehow his consciousness still managed to spin dizzyingly. He allowed Sam to move him until suddenly he felt something solid behind him that he was able to lean back against.
“Okay, try again,” Sam said, a gentle hand resting on Bucky’s shoulder.
Bucky took in an unsteady breath before he carefully squinted his eyes open again. This time the light was less excruciating, Sam must have moved them out of direct sunlight.
“Shit,” Bucky mumbled as he reached a hand to the spot on the back of his head where it still felt like that sledgehammer was pounding away. His fingers found that his hair was matted to his scalp with thick blood. He glanced down and noticed a trail of blood on the ground from where Sam had moved him.
Sam was leaning over and gently moved Bucky’s head forward so that he could get a look at the wound.
“That’s a lot of blood,” Sam said worriedly.
“Head wounds always… s’always bleed a lot,” Bucky murmured, his words slurring unsteadily
“Can super soldiers get concussions?” Sam pressed as he sat back and then focused on Bucky’s face.
“You, you got me,” Bucky said with a vague shrug. “Believe it or not… Hydra wasn’t big on… wasn’t big on dia’nosis an’… an’ medical trea’ments.”
“Okay, lean your head back for me,” Sam said, and carefully Bucky did what he was told. Sam put a hand on either side of Bucky’s face -- Bucky belatedly realizing that he was trying to steady his head which was starting to sway listlessly -- and studied his eyes. “Yeah, it’s definitely a good concussion. Thank god that’s all it is, though. Had anybody else smacked their noggin that hard…” He let the thought hang.
Bucky blinked, trying his best to focus on Sam, but he kept drifting in and out of focus. Bucky’s breaths were suddenly coming much more shallow. His stomach turned angrily. And he barely had time to register what was happening, only just able to swat Sam’s hands away and lean over before his stomach completely rebelled and sent its contents burning up his throat.
Bucky heaved several times before he was aware of Sam’s arm wrapped around his chest, bracing him so he didn’t collapse to the ground. Bucky reached up with his right hand and wrapped his fingers around Sam’s arm, anchoring himself with the physical contact as his stomach continued to punish him even after it was completely empty as he continued to dry heave.
“Okay, you’re okay,” Sam soothed as the gagging finally slowed. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay, now.” Bucky did as he was told as Sam straightened him up and leaned him back against the wall once again. “Good, Buck. That should be the worst of it. You just need to get some rest and let that super special serum do it’s thing and you’ll be good as new.”
“Thanks'Sam,” Bucky slurred.
“I got you,” Sam assured him as he shifted around Bucky. He wound one arm around his back and another under his knees. Bucky didn’t even have it in him to protest when Sam picked him up like a child. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Black Widow’s director Cate Shortland on ‘involuntary hysterectomy’ clap-back
“So Eric, who is our writer, had written a joke about women being in bad moods because they have their period, Shortland recalls. And I remember Florence and Scarlett and I reading it and just being like, ‘Oh, my God, this is ridiculous.’
The director says she almost cut the joke entirely, but after discussing with her actors, ultimately decided to “answer it.” She didn’t clarify if that meant improvising on the day of or going back for traditional rewrites, but the outcome was the final digression on involuntary hysterectomies.
I love it, Shortland says. Because it’s like, if you’re gonna make that joke, I’m gonna unleash Florence Pugh on you. She’s gonna Yelena you. It’s one of my favorite moments in the film.”
Trunk | Trapped Under Water | Solitary Confinement
There weren’t many restraints that were strong enough to hold a super soldier. Bucky knew from experience that given enough time and if he tried hard enough, he could get out of any containment. It explained why Hydra cryogenically froze him when they didn’t need him.
But goddamnit, these assholes somehow managed to get their hands on a set of really heavy, vibranium restraints. Large cuffs that covered each of Bucky’s hands and up to his mid-forearm and chained the two together behind his back at a severe angle. A chain connected the cuffs around his hands to a set around his ankles, just barely long enough for Bucky to stand, though he had to lean back a bit to accomplish that. It made walking a flat surface a challenge, let alone when he was marched up the stairs out of the cargo hold and up onto the deck of the cargo ship.
“Well, well, well,” the mastermind behind this kidnapping drawled as Bucky squinted in the bright sunlight. “Oh how the once mighty and feared Winter Soldier has fallen.”
“You’re a bit late to that party,” Bucky deadpanned. As he was pushed toward the edge of the ship, he glanced up, trying not to be too obvious about it. But the skies were frustratingly empty.
“No one is coming for you, Winter Soldier,” the man said, sounding annoyingly proud of himself. “And the world will be better off when you are gone.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Bucky said as he began to struggle against the men that pushed him along. “Still, I’ve come this far…”
Bucky swung his head around, knocking out one of the men to his left. He lunged with his shoulder, knocking away another on his right. But his balance was terribly off and his strikes weren’t as powerful as they usually were. Despite his struggles he was pushed closer and closer to the edge of the ship, until…
“Providing a decent meal for the sharks will be the best thing you have done for this world, Winter Soldier.”
And suddenly, the solid metal under his feet was gone. He was free falling, twisting around to try and get his feet under him, but it was impossible with his restraints. His right shoulder hit the water first and it felt like hitting a cement wall that crumbled beneath him. The impact knocked the breath out of him, and pure instinct had his lungs trying to pull in air but instead only found water.
Bucky struggled desperately as he sank like a rock into the depths of the ocean. His lungs spasmed viciously as he violently gagged on the water filling his lungs, strangling him. With a burst of adrenaline, Bucky yanked his arms up and his feet down, snapping the chain that connected the two. Then he focused on his wrists, pulling them apart as hard as he could… but they would not budge.
The water around him was getting darker. Bucky honestly wasn’t sure if that was because of the depth or because of the lack of oxygen to his brain. He continued to struggle, but a small part of him knew that it was over. He couldn’t get a good angle to get the cuff off himself when they were behind him. His strength was waning as the seconds ticked by. A thick fog was rolling into his head and for some reason he slowly began to feel less panicked.
Maybe this was it.
He wasn’t aware of arms that suddenly wound under his armpits before rocketing upward. He wasn’t even away when he breached the surface and was granted the luxury of oxygen once again. The next thing he was aware of was laying on soft ground as his lungs practically turned themselves inside out in an attempt to empty all the water they had taken in.
“Easy, it’s okay. It’s okay, now. Get it all up, Bucky, you’re okay.”
The voice came to him dimly and he couldn’t really comprehend the words being said, but the voice was instinctually familiar and comforting. For several minutes, his entire world consisted of agonizingly coughing and gagging on thick salt water and listening to that familiar voice, holding onto the sound like a lifeline.
“Bucky? You with me, man?”
Finally, the rest of the world started filtering in around him. He was laying on his right side, hands braced on his shoulder and his side keeping him steady. A foul, rancid smell assaulted his senses so much so, he could almost taste it. Or… perhaps that wasn’t the reason he could taste it as he squinted his waterlogged eyes open and took in the vomit that was only a few inches from his face. Thankfully, a moment later he was dragged away from the vomit, though he was still held on his side as he continued to cough weakly in between ragged breaths.
“Bucky?”
Bucky glanced up and after a moment he finally found Sam’s face. He was dripping wet and his skin was strangely ashy, like his dark skin had gone pale. His eyes were wide and stared down at Bucky with raw fear that he didn’t bother to even attempt to hide.
Bucky’s voice failed him, so he lifted his right arm up across his body so he could put his hand on top of Sam's, which was still braced on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky squeezed his hand, using the physical contact to ground himself as his brain finally caught up with what happened.
He was alive. Sam had saved him.
As Bucky’s breaths finally began to even out, Sam finally rolled him over onto his back. Sand clung to the right side of Bucky’s face and neck and Sam reached out to carefully brush it away from his eye.
“S’m,” Bucky finally wheezed.
Sam sighed in relief. “I got you. You’re okay now, Buck.”
Bucky swallowed thickly, his throat and lungs still burning painfully. “You’re… you’re…” Sam leaned in so that he could hear them better. “You’re late.”
Sam snorted a half hysterical laugh. “Well, excuse me, princess, I got a little held up when your kidnappers didn’t have the decency to leave me a note to tell me where the hell they were going.” Bucky attempted to laugh but it quickly turned into a coughing fit. “Take it easy,” Sam soothed as he placed a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Just hang in there. Help is on the way and then we’ll get the hell out of here.”
Bucky nodded as he struggled to catch his breath. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrist to assure himself that he really was there with him and he really was okay now.
It was a close call. But thankfully Sam and Bucky would always have each others’ backs.
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