Stand by me
The sun had begun to set when the quinjet landed on the concrete roof of Avengers Tower. The jet had barely touched the ground when Bucky moved forward, vacating the spot he had been holding ever since Natasha's call had come in. He ignored the way the jet's nozzles blew uncomfortably hot air in his face, whipping his long hair around his head as he stopped right next to the rear end and waited in a firm stance for the hatch to lower.
Bucky had been schooled by Hydra to never show emotions. Or, better said, they had tried to drive out all of his humanity until he was void of all human feelings, to do their bidding with no questions asked. And yet, every time after he had left cryo-freeze, or after he had been away from the direct influence of the organisation in order to finish a mission, snippets of life returned to him. They were too blurred and fleeting to be memories, but they threatened to break the fierce grip Hydra had on him. It was one of the reasons Bucky had been subjected to torture, indoctrination and almost literal brainwashing through electroshock therapy. It had taken a lot of time - time away from Hydra, time to himself, but mostly time together with Steve - in order to regain some of what he had lost. He continued to improve, to build up a new life, but it still wasn't easy. He tended to keep to himself, to keep his feelings and thoughts concealed. Only Steve, who had always been able to read him like an open book, was fully able to reach him. It was only because of his friendship and his support that he gradually began opening up to others, slowly leaving the horror's of Hydra behind him.
But now, with Tony approaching from behind to meet the jet's passengers, Bucky was glad to be able to hide behind an invisible disguise. His facial features were noticeably impassive, conveying no emotion whatsoever. His blue eyes were fixed on the hatch, intently focused but locking away the worry that nagged at him. He forced himself to breathe normally, fighting hard against the urge to hold his breath until he knew what was was waiting for him inside. Something must have shown, however, because suddenly Tony's hand was on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. It was then that Bucky realized he'd been balling his metal hand to a fist, constantly clenching and unclenching. Bucky gave a curt nod to the other man before he focused back on the ramp that lowered itself much too slowly for his liking.
Eight months ago, such an interaction between Tony and Bucky would have been unthinkable. After the events in Siberia, when Tony had attempted to kill Bucky, and Bucky had secretly wished for Tony to succeed. Again, it had been Steve's doing that they were now at least civil to each other. Steve was a good mediator. Well, the time when Bucky had prevented Tony from being crushed to death by a workshop experiment gone wrong had helped as well. Or when Tony had caught Steve and Bucky in the midst of a heavy make-out session. Or the one team night Bucky had experienced a flashback during a movie, with Steve being the only one who had been able to calm him down. It was obvious that Steve would never give up Bucky for anything in the world. Bucky was there to stay, so everyone better got accustomed to the new situation.
Finally, the hatch was completely lowered and the two Avengers inside became fully visible. Bucky took one look at the pair and immediately stepped forward. Tony followed his lead.
"Hi guys," Natasha greeted the men from her awkward position, leaning against the side of the quinjet while holding up a semiconscious Steve, "If you don't mind, we could use a little help…"
Bucky went up to Steve's other side and slung the man's arm over his shoulder effortlessly, holding onto it firmly with his metal arm. He wrapped his other arm around Steve's midsection and steadily straightened him up. Steve slowly lifted his head from where it had sagged against Bucky's and blinked, once, twice, before making eye contact.
"Hey Buck," he smiled, then winced from the stinging cut on his cheek. "We hit a snag on our mission. It's not as bad as it looks. It has already begun to heal."
"Let's get you inside so I can see for myself, okay?" Bucky said in a low voice and pressed a soft kiss to Steve's temple, "Lean on me, I've got you."
Tony offered his arm to Natasha, which she gratefully took. Together, they made their way down the ramp, hitting a switch on their way out so the hatch closed behind them. Whereas Natasha slowly shuffled forwards on her own power, only slightly leaning on Tony, Bucky almost dragged Steve along to the elevator doors.
"So I take it you kids had a blast, then?"
+#+#+#+#+#+#+
"You're an idiot."
"Go away."
"You're going to get yourself killed one day."
"Please go away."
Steve laid on the bed he shared with Bucky. One arm was slung over his head, effectively shielding his eyes from the bright light illuminating the room. The other arm loosely cradled his bare left side. After the shower that Bucky had helped him with, he hadn't bothered to put on clothes and simply changed into a pair of boxers. He was more comfortable that way and Bucky was able tend to him better. All lacerations were bandaged up, as well as the sprained ankle and the twisted knee. His right leg was propped up on a mountain of pillows that Steve wasn't sure where Bucky had acquired them from, and ice packs were strategically placed against the worst of the bruises. Steve was exhausted and felt like sleeping for a week. He probably could, if it wasn't for the soreness all over his body and the pounding headache. Sadly, it did not stop Bucky from ranting.
"Who else would do something that stupid? Going in without backup, getting your radio smashed -"
"They hit me in the head with a brick, of course the radio broke!"
" - falling off the roof of the building -"
"There was an explosion!"
" - without your shield -"
"I left it for Natasha's protection!"
" - and really? A brick? Consider yourself lucky that nothing else was smashed, you stupid punk. What is it with you and your damn white knight syndrome? When there's a bomb, you get the hell out of there, you don't run towards it. I can't believe you did that! Natasha can take care of herself just fine. The other week, she had both of us in a choke hold during our sparring session, damnit. I can't believe you went out there without your shield!"
"Language," Steve couldn't help but interject. "How is Natasha anyway?"
Bucky stopped his pacing and sat down on his side of the bed, facing the ailing man.
"Tony patched her up and now she's resting on the couch. She's fine. You both were lucky this time. I'm serious, Steve, if you pull another stunt like that I'm never letting you leave this building again."
Steve remained on his back but turned his head to look at his companion, squinting his eyes at the bright light but wanting to face him nonetheless. He got the message.. I can't lose you.
"You know me. You would have done the same thing… And it's not like I'm actively asking for trouble."
"Says the man with a big fat target on his shield. Whose brilliant idea was that anyway?" Bucky huffed.
"Look, can we not talk about all this now?" Steve groaned and closed his eyes, both hands coming to rest on his stomach and against his side. "Yes, this did not go so well and yes, I'm not feeling too good at the moment."
"Understatement of the year… don't think I don't know those ribs are broken."
"I also have a concussion and unless you want me to throw up all over you I suggest you shut up. You're not helping," Steve muttered as he clenched his jaw and swallowed hard.
Bucky eyed Steve critically once again before he left the bed, taking the ice packs with him.
Steve sighed, feeling even worse than before at having lost his temper. It had been a terrible day, he did not need an argument with his lover on top of it.
"Buck, come on..." He attempted to sit up, but his upper body failed him as everything became dizzy. He fell back down, his hands clenched into the bed sheets beneath him as if that alone would help keep him grounded. He was not sure how much time had passed, holding onto the soft linen, all the while squeezing his eyes shut to stop the spinning and to keep the nausea at bay. Eventually, he felt the bed dip beside him.
"Come on, deep breaths."
It was not easy, but a few shuddering intakes of air together with a warm hand on top of his chest to control his breathing did the job. He flinched when something cold was once more placed against the bruises, but quickly relaxed. He carefully opened one eye and realized that the room was completely dark now. Bucky had not only exchanged the ice packs for new, colder ones, but pulled the curtains shut. Now he was back, back in bed with Steve where he belonged. Bucky placed another ice pack on top of Steve's head, his hand gently holding it in place. Contently, Steve leaned into the touch.
"How's that?" Bucky whispered and slid closer to Steve, his eyes slightly glistening in the dark.
"Better," Steve smiled and took Bucky's free hand in his. "Thanks Buck."
"You're welcome. Now sleep. Relax, you'll feel better when you wake up."
"Looking forward to it…"
Bucky pressed a soft kiss to Steve's neck and gently stroked his thumb over Steve's hand in calming circles until he felt Steve slowly drifting off to sleep.
"Love you," Steve mumbled drowsily.
"I love you, too… idiot."