"Vampires. We're hunting vampires. Who do we look like, Buffy the vampire slayer?" Clint muttered.
"Honestly, I'm just surprised to learn vampires exist," Bucky said.
"Really? 'Cause I'm not even surprised. I fought aliens not even a month after being frozen in ice for seventy years, it would take a hell of a lot more than vampires to surprise me these days," said Steve.
"Hey, Barnes, I just realized. You could be Bucky the vampire slayer," said Clint, stifling a laugh. "You know, 'cause it sounds like Buffy..."
Steve and Bucky looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
"Let's just get this over with," said Steve. "And Barton, no more lame vampire jokes..."
He led them into the crypt, shield in one hand, stake in the other. They reached a room that the vampires had obviously been living in, but no one was there.
"Damn... do you think they knew we were coming?" Bucky said.
"Doubt it," Steve replied.
"Maybe we should have come during the day, then they'd be stuck down here," said Clint.
"Wait, shh," said Steve suddenly, listening hard.
Someone was coming. He signaled to Bucky and Clint to hide and they all darted behind tombs and pillars. A moment later, a pair vampires entered the room, a man and a woman.
"You smell something, babe?" the man asked.
The woman inhaled deeply and Steve felt his heart rate go up. He didn't realize that vampires just might be able to smell their blood.
"I do," the woman replied. "Smells like we've got some prime red-blooded men sneaking around in here."
"Exactly what I was thinking," said the man.
Well, there was no point hiding and ending up a sitting duck when they already knew they were there. Steve tightened his grip on the wooden stake and stepped out from behind the pillar, then charged at the vampires.
"Dammit, Steve!" he heard Bucky moan.
The vampires dodged and the man aimed a punch at Steve, whole blocked it with his shield. A moment later, Bucky and Clint had joined the fight. The woman kicked the stake out of Steve's hand and he dove for it.
"Steve, look out!" Bucky shouted.
Steve whipped around as Bucky threw himself between him and the male vampire, who was advancing with his fangs bared. Before Steve could register what had happened, the vampire sunk his teeth into Bucky's neck.
"No!"
He made to run forward, stake raised, but Clint beat him to it, sinking his own stake into the vampire's back. He collapsed to the floor, dead, and the woman bolted. Steve rushed to Bucky's side just in time to catch him as his knees gave out.
"Bucky! Are you okay?" he gasped, lowering him gently to the floor.
"Steve... it hurts... it's burning," Bucky said through gritted teeth.
His entire body was trembling and he looked horribly pale.
"It's okay, Buck, we're gonna fix this, we're gonna make it stop," Steve said, trying to sound comforting even though he was terrified. "Do you think you can walk?"
"N-no..."
Bucky went suddenly tense, gripping Steve's hand so hard he thought it might break. His body convulsed, writhing in pain, and Steve held him closer as though that might make it better.
"It's okay, Bucky, just hold on, it'll be over soon."
He looked up at Clint desperately.
"What's happening to him?" he pleaded.
"I think... I think it's changing him," Clint said quietly. "I think he's becoming a vampire."
Bucky cried out in pain and a bolt of panic shot through Steve. Bucky, a vampire? He couldn't... that couldn't happen, it wasn't fair. But as Bucky slowly relaxed in his arms, eyes shut tight and breathing heavily, he realized Clint was right. Bucky was pale and Steve could feel his skin growing cold. At last, Bucky stopped trembling and seemed to be unconscious.
"We need to get back," said Clint. "It's almost dawn and he won't survive out there once the sun's up."
"Maybe... maybe someone will know how to fix him," Steve said.
Clint looked at him pityingly.
"I don't think so, Cap. I'm pretty sure there's no cure for being a vampire."
Bucky still hadn't woken up when they got back to Avengers tower. Clint explained what had happened to the others while Steve carried Bucky to their room, laying him gently on the bed and pulling up a chair so he could sit at his side.
"I'm sorry, Bucky," he whispered. "This is my fault. You were trying to protect me... it always happens like this, doesn't it... you getting screwed over trying to keep me safe... it's not fair."
"Damn right, it's not."
Steve looked up from his hands. Bucky was awake, staring at Steve with a shadow of a smile.
"How are you feeling?" Steve asked.
"Tired. And hungry."
Steve's heart skipped a beat.
"Shit."
"I know... Steve, you can't be around me, not right now. I... I don't know if I'll be able to control myself. It's too strong and you... well, I don't know how to say this without sounding creepy, but you smell rather delicious," said Bucky.
"I'll talk to the others and see what we can do. Just stay here, okay?"
Steve got to his feet and, out of habit, kissed Bucky on the forehead. He felt Bucky tense up at the touch and quickly left the room, trying to ignore the fear that was threatening to engulf him. He went out to the living room, where the others were sitting, waiting.
"How is he?" Natasha asked.
"He's awake," said Steve. "And, well... he's hungry."
He didn't want to look at the others because he knew that all he would see there was fear. To his surprise, Sam came to his side.
"Well, we can't just let the poor guy starve," Sam said. "Hey Bruce, have we got any blood packets down in medical? That would work, don't you think?"
"Yeah, though it's hardly an inexhaustible supply. I'll go fetch a couple," said Bruce, getting to his feet.
"That's good enough for now," said Sam. He turned back to Steve and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, pal, we're gonna do all we can for him. Promise."
"Thanks, Sam," said Steve.
He tried to smile, but the tears that had been looming just in the corners of his eyes finally got the best of him.
The next several days were ones of discovery, patience, and brittle emotions. They found out almost immediately that Bucky didn't actually need to sleep and that as long as he got at least a bag of blood a day he felt okay. For the first few days, he was elusive and avoided the others, even Steve, because he was afraid he would lose control and hurt them. Then slowly he began slipping into the room and sitting quietly in a separate chair for a while when everyone was hanging around. It felt to Steve as if Bucky had regressed back to how he'd been when he first came back after escaping Hydra.
After a few days of distanced non-participation, Bucky transferred himself to the farthest end of the sofa, still keeping ample space between him and anyone else, but closer than the corner chair, and occasionally he'd chime into the conversation. It was two weeks later before he felt in-control enough to start sitting close to Steve once again.
It was a Sunday night and Steve had just finished his evening shower. He went back to his room, his towel around his waist, to find Bucky sitting on the bed.
"Sorry if I startled you," said Bucky.
"No, it's fine, I just... I'm not used to seeing you in here. Not anymore."
"I know. I..." Bucky paused, looking nervous. "I wanted to... I've been afraid, Steve. I didn't want to risk hurting you. That's why I haven't..."
"I know, Buck. I would've done the same thing if it'd been me."
"But I think I'm in control now. Or at least, I hope I am. Because if I'm not..."
Bucky stood up and slowly approached Steve. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and took Steve's hand. It was the first time they had touched since Steve kissed Bucky's forehead that first day. Bucky's hand was cold, but not unpleasantly so. Steve was used to it besides; he had held Bucky's metal hand so many times before that it felt almost natural.
He looked into Bucky's eyes. There was a hunger there, but it wasn't predatory. No, it was a much more raw form, more needy and passionate, and Steve realized what that hunger was: a hunger for contact. Two weeks of never once touching another person because he was too afraid, because he had been turned once again into a potential killer driven by instinct and he didn't dare trust himself to lay even a finger on Steve for fear he might break. But he'd learned to control it now, and while that fear was still there, it was less fragile and besides, the need was too great.
Steve leaned closer, moving slowly so Bucky could read his actions and pull away if he needed. But instead, Bucky's lips parted and welcomed Steve in as their mouths met. It was soft and gentle at first, slow, careful, tentative. Then the hunger possessed not only Bucky but Steve as well, and the kiss deepened. Their need grew until all fear was drowned out and Steve let his towel fall from his waist and they fell back onto the bed and let their hunger take complete control.
Steve slept, wrapped in Bucky's arms. The blankets were a tangled mess around their limbs, and Bucky stroked his thumb in gentle circles on Steve's shoulder, keeping watch over him through the night.
"We found the other vampire's hideout," Clint announced the next morning when Steve shuffled into the living room, his hair tussled and his sweatpants riding obscenely low on his hips.
"Good, we'll go tonight," said Steve, pouring himself a mug of coffee and joining Clint, Bucky, and Natasha at the table.
"I'm not sure how, but you look like hell but happy about it," said Clint.
The grin on Natasha's face told Steve that she certainly knew the how of it. The fact that Bucky was looking at Steve as if he might jump him right at the breakfast table probably gave it away. Steve just shrugged in response to Clint's comment and sipped his coffee as nonchalantly as he could under Bucky's intensely lustful gaze.
"Wait, hold up," said Clint. "Did you guys... how is that even possible? Do vampires even have blood, how did you...?"
"Hey, Clint, I suggest you don't think about it too hard," Natasha teased.
"But wouldn't he have... Steve, how are you still alive?" Clint asked incredulously.
"It was sex, not a breakfast buffet," Bucky replied bluntly. "I do have self-control, you know."
"Sooo, about that vampire," Steve interjected before the conversation could get anymore awkward. "Where's she hiding?"
"A completely different graveyard on the other end of town," said Clint. "Not very smart sticking around, since she knows we're after her."
"Maybe she wants revenge since you killed her boyfriend," Natasha suggested.
"Yeah well, he bit my boyfriend..."
"You don't think we could... I dunno... talk to her, maybe?" said Bucky tentatively.
"Seriously?" Clint said. "Her buddy tried to drink you dry. He turned you into a vampire. And you want to just talk to her?"
"If it doesn't work then we can kill her," Bucky said. "But shouldn't we at least give her a chance to explain herself? I dunno, just barging in there and staking her without a second thought seems a bit... discriminatory..."
"You're right," said Steve. He thought he understood why Bucky was saying this. "We can't let you be our only exception, we should give her a chance."
"Thanks," said Bucky.
"But what if she just tries to kill us?" Clint asked.
"I'll talk to her," Bucky said. "I think since I'm a vampire too, there might be a certain level of trust. And if she tries to attack, I think I could stand a decent chance against her until you guys can come in with the stakes."
Bucky stepped down into the crypt, glancing around for the vampire. Night had fallen, but they knew she had yet to leave her hideout.
"Hello?" he called. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm unarmed. I just want to talk."
The woman stepped out of the shadows.
"I know who you are," she said. "You were there when they killed my husband. He turned you, didn't he? I can't smell your blood."
"That's right. I'm a vampire too. My name is Bucky. What's yours?"
"Ella."
"I'm sorry about what happened to your husband, Ella. I really am."
"You were trying to kill both of us. You and your little friends. They're not here, are they?" Ella said.
"No, it's just you and me. I just want to talk."
"They abandoned you, didn't they? After you changed. Couldn't deal with you being a monster so they dumped you like vermin."
"They didn't do that. They would never abandon me," Bucky said, suddenly defensive. "And I'm not a monster. Neither of us are, if we don't wanna be. My friends helped me and they can help you too if you let them. That's why I'm here."
"Keep it cool, Barnes," Natasha's voice hissed from the communicator in his ear. "Don't let her wind you up."
"What was that?" Ella asked.
"What was what?"
"That noise..."
If Bucky's heart was still beating, it would have skipped a beat. Of course. Vampires have abnormally sharp hearing. Ella could hear Natasha over the comm.
"What noise?" he asked, silently cursing the nervous guilty tremor that snuck into his voice.
"They are here," said Ella. "You lied to me. They're listening in, waiting to strike once you've got me fooled into thinking I'm safe with you. But I am so much smarter than you. They're not gonna help me. And just you wait, it won't be long before they stop helping you."
"No, Ella, I promise I'm just trying to–"
Ella sprung forward, seizing Bucky by the throat and smashing him into the wall.
"Help! Now!" he gasped into the comm.
He clawed at Ella's hand, trying to release her hold on his throat. The sound of footsteps echoed on the stairs behind him and he jabbed his knee into Ella's stomach, making her lose her grip on him so he could wriggle free just as Steve, Clint, and Natasha reached the crypt. Ella straightened up and her eyes fell on Clint.
"You!" she hissed, recognizing him as her husband's killer.
She lunged toward Clint and Steve stepped between them, knocking her back with his shield. She was back on her feet almost as soon as she fell, flying at them with alarming speed. Even though it was four highly seasoned fighters against the one of her, they were having trouble keeping up. Hoping to knock Ella down long enough to give them a few seconds advantage, Clint nocked an arrow and shot it into the nearest pillar. A moment later, it exploded, throwing everyone backwards.
"Well, that backfired..." he muttered, brushing rubble off himself.
"Ya think?" said Natasha.
"Steve?!"
Bucky scrambled through the wreckage to where Steve lay, pierced through the chest with a broken shaft of iron from a grate.
"No no no, Steve please, don't leave me," he begged.
"Now you know how it feels," Ella jeered, looming over him.
Bucky set his jaw, slowly wrapping his fingers around the stake lying abandoned at Steve's side.
"He's dying and all you can do is watch. And then you're gonna have to live for all eternity without him. Welcome to my world, you son of a bitch," said Ella.
Bucky looked up at her, a fierce, predatory glint in his eyes that he'd fought so hard to keep back. There was no point in fighting it now. He sprang to his feet and buried the stake deep in Ella's chest, watching with satisfaction as she staggered and fell to the ground, dead. Bucky knelt down by Steve's side once again. The smell of the blood draining from his body made Bucky's head spin, but he forced himself to focus on Steve's blue eyes staring helplessly up at him and his ragged breaths getting weaker by the second.
"I know how to save you," Bucky whispered suddenly.
The thought sickened him, but he couldn't just sit there and let Steve die in his arms when he had a way to save him. He gently pulled the iron rod from Steve's chest, then leaned down and kissed his lips.
"I have to save you, Stevie. I'm sorry."
He let his lips stray from Steve's mouth down to his throat.
"Bucky, what the hell are you doing?" Natasha gasped.
"Saving his life," said Bucky.
"What do you–"
Closing his eyes, he sunk his teeth into Steve's neck. His blood teased Bucky's tongue and it was all he could do to pull himself away from the intoxicating taste. He could feel Steve's muscles tense up and held him tighter, pressing his forehead to Steve's. It had started.
"It's okay, I've got you. It's gonna be okay. I promise."
Steve had started shaking, his face pale.
"I'm gonna take care of you, Stevie. I'm never gonna leave you. Everything's gonna be alright, just hang in there, buddy."
The pain had started. Steve was writhing in his arms but Bucky just held onto him, not heeding the tears streaming down his face.
"I love you, Steve, I love you so much and I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't just let you die. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
Bucky's whispered apologies faded softer and softer as Steve slowly relaxed in his arms. The transformation had ended at last, but Bucky still clung to Steve, his face buried in his chest as he struggled to control his sobs.
"Bucky," Natasha said gently. "Come on. We need to get home before daylight."
It was Bucky's turn to sit in the chair beside their shared bed as Steve lay pale and cold, but still, in a sense, alive. He had apologized so many times already that he had no more sorries left to say and could only watch in silence, waiting for Steve's eyes to open. Finally, Steve came to and Bucky let out a sigh of relief.
"Hey," Steve mumbled.
"How do you feel?" Bucky asked.
"Like I've been hit by a truck. Also, hungry."
"Well, I was prepared for that."
Bucky reached down and pulled out a packet of blood from the cooler at his feet.
"Welcome to the vampire life," he said, handing it to Steve.
"Cheers."
"I'm sorry, Steve. I want you to know that. But I couldn't let you die, not when I could do something about it."
"It's okay. I, uh... I actually kinda appreciate it," said Steve. "The whole time I was lying there, all I could think about was how I couldn't leave you. And now, well... good luck ever getting rid of me, Buck."
Bucky laughed a little.
"So you and me for all eternity now, huh?" he said.
"Looks like it."
"I'm okay with that."
"Me too."