Schooled
A/N—This was a supposed to be a bit of a thumping story, just because, and became something more. Funny how that happens. Plus, I really like Black Widow as a confidant for Steve. They just seem to compliment each other. I did research about the early treatments of asthma in the 1920-30's. You wouldn't believe it but smoking 'asthma cigarettes' as a drug delivery system was common. As a kid from a double smoking home… don't smoke ANYTHING. Gross. And yes… Bucky's mom's name is Winifred. Marvel-wiki.
The burden in his arms was heavy; dead weight heavy. Even through gloved hands, his fingers were mired in sloppy red gore, oozing from wounds not his own. Panting with exertion, heart hammering not from weakness of body but a deep terrifying fear in his soul that his load may not survive chilled his guts to ice.
"Hang on, Buck. You gotta." Cap warned James, nearly unconscious in his arms, as Steve carried him from the battle field to a medic.
The Avengers were retreating, as Iron Man's Iron Legion swept in to finish off the stragglers. The harsh smoke of burning ordinance and excruciatingly loud sounds of small arms fire enveloped and rattled all around Cap and his damaged friend. The ground was dug up in fierce mounds from bombs making the footing treacherous.
"Steve." The voice was a ragged whisper devoid of sound.
"Buck. Hang on. We're almost there." Rogers pressed on eyes fixed ahead determinedly, leg muscles on fire, back aching as he pushed on to their rendezvous point. Steve knew if he looked at Bucky, he'd break down and stop and Barnes would be good as dead.
"Steve." James whispered again as blood bubbled up from his mouth, trickling lazily down his jaw into his collar. "D'you remember that time… in high school?"
Cap spared a glance down at his best friend's dirt covered face, buried into Rogers' chest as he carried him. The blue eyes looked up from his battered cheeks. "What kind of question is that?" Rogers bit back in frustration. Barnes was dying. How could he be talking about high school?
The tent came into view where a flurry of activity from wounded being tended and triaged greeted them. Steve doubled his time getting Bucky there as his arms felt like they would fall off his body in the last seconds.
"Make way!" Steve bellowed as people saw him and immediately parted like Moses through the Red Sea. Inside, Rogers placed Barnes down on the closest empty bed as if he were made of the most fragile porcelain and would shatter without the most delicate touch. Cap staggered back from the bedside as Barnes' blue eyes still held his, agony plastered across his face. "Help him." Rogers implored with a tender tone feeling completely useless.
Medics pounced on Barnes like a pack of hungry dogs, stripping off armor, his uniform, shouting out orders, stats and demanding tools and equipment.
Rogers felt sick to his stomach as he watched the proceedings and Bucky's eyes slid closed, skin growing paler by the second. A hand touched his shoulder making Steve jump, eyes wide, fist clenched to strike.
"Whoa. Easy big guy." Widow said putting her hands up but not backing away. Her eyes were filled with worry, mostly for Cap.
"Sorry." Rogers muttered and turned back to the carnage.
"I understand." Natasha said, said standing nearby. She could almost hear Steve's heart breaking in his chest as his face remained a chiseled façade of calm, body tensely at attention.
Suddenly, Stark's clanking footsteps from his Mark armor were heard approaching, "Let's get the hell outta…. Oh."
Romanov gave him a stern look because Steve was singularly focused on Bucky.
"Dr. Cho. Get him back to the Avengers HQ." Tony suggested slightly more quietly eyes darting nervously to and from James as if the macabre scene was unavoidable.
"He's not stable enough for transport." Natasha hissed, eavesdropping on the doctors' chatter. Spying had taught her a thing or two about medicine.
"Ok. I'll have everyone set up a perimeter if we'll be staying a bit longer." Stark said and clunked away.
Natasha returned her attention to James and Steve, shocked that a human could contain that much blood. And half of it was now on the floor.
Steve didn't turn to her but spoke softly, "Thanks."
"You're welcome." She replied gently taking his hand in hers, feeling the caked blood of Barnes on the leather glove. He gave her hand a bit of a squeeze. "Let's get you away from here. Let the docs do their work. We can move Bucky in a few hours after he stabilizes."
Rogers resisted physically but then he mulled it over. Letting Widow guide him, he let her pull him away.
A few hours later, in the dusk and gloom of their makeshift camp hospital shelter, Steve sat on a folding cot next to Bucky as his vitals were monitored until the doctors were certain he wouldn't die in transit back to the HQ. That opportunity would be a slim window, but the medics did their monitoring remotely, leaving Rogers alone with the former Winter Soldier. James looked like some lifeless monster from the Thriller video that the Avengers made Cap watch on a dare. Rogers couldn't sleep for a week after.
The camp light was dimmed, giving the shelter a kind of 1940's vibe and feel of yellowed canvas and a different war. Steve held his head in his hands, having scrubbed the Bucky's blood from between his fingers and under his nails. He scrubbed and scrubbed as hard as he could with the soap and brush until his cuticles bled and nails almost cracked. He could still feel it; the warm slipperiness of it, the iron smell of it and that too much was leaking out of his newly returned best friend.
Behind his eyes, a vise was squeezing his skull as he heard Schmidt and Zola's voice. He saw Bucky on the table, strapped down like a lab rat. Smoke and vapor and snow…
"Wanna talk about it?" Natasha's voice came to him like a life raft.
Almost reluctantly, he grabbed for it, looking up at the lithe spy. She could see his eyes were red and blotchy from weeping but kept the observation to herself.
Cap patted the space next to him on the cot. She sat gracefully. After a few moments of shared silence, as if they were at a wake for the deceased, Steve cleared his throat, "Can I tell you a story?"
Romanov smiled a kind smile, "Of course. I'm all ears."
"The sarcasm is not lost." Rogers replied then sat up from his hunched over position, eyes locked on his wounded friend. "Bucky asked me if I remembered high school when I was carrying him in off the field. I just remembered why he brought that up, the damn bastard."
Widow waited a second then replied, "Do enlighten."
Steve tore his eyes from Barnes and smiled a grim, yet amused smile from another time in the past.
"Bucky! Bucky! Wake the hell up!" Steve's small wheezing voice implored the injured Barnes who lay sprawled on the sidewalk not far from their home.
Rogers had snuck out their shared bedroom window, down the fire escape, having made a pillow dummy of himself in his bed to trick Mrs. Barnes. Steve had pneumonia again and was not allowed at school.
Steve pounded his bony fists on the chest of the bigger boy as he watched the blood ooze from the cuts on James' face as bruises began to purple. He got Bucky to cough, blood in the sputum and his eyes opened like the slits of a cat. "What the hell are you here for?"
"I came… " Steve wheezed, "I heard… a fight." Bucky, through his swelling eyes, that Rogers looked a bit blue around the lips. He wasn't getting oxygen.
"Well… I can… I can… take care of myself." Barnes gasped as he collected himself and tried to get up. A growl and hiss of pain resulted as he felt the broken ribs grate on each other and his leg, possibly broken, asserted itself.
"Point is…" Rogers sucked air, "ya don't have to."
Bucky smirked and chuckled, which made the pain hurt more than before, "And whadda' you going to do? Carry me home 'Mr. I'm Sick Again'? Momma will whip your ass."
Steve sat back on his heels trying to ignore the fact his vision was tunneling from lack of air and he could feel his little bird heart fluttering within the confines of his bony chest. He understood Bucky was hurt and pain sometimes makes people say cruel things. But he was James' friend and always would be; brothers.
"Then I'll take that whooping. For you." Steve got up unsteadily on his feet, looking down at his bloodied friend on the sidewalk, "You stay right here." He spied a young boy, about four years old, watching the two of them with morbid curiosity from a nearby storefront. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a nickel and called as loud as he could, "Hey, you!" The boy looked frightened. "I ain't going to hurt you. C'mere!"
The small boy approached, his oversized drivers cap sliding over his eyes. He pushed it up with a tiny hand and fixed his suspenders over his hand-me-down shirt, growing braver as he approached, "Wat you want?"
Steve drew himself up to his full height, which was not impressive, and said to the child, "Y'see this guy here? He's my best friend. If I give you a nickel, will you keep watch on him till I get help? Make sure nobody messes with him. Can you do that?"
The little boy looked at the nickel in Rogers' hand greedily. Even Bucky wondered where he'd gotten the piece. "Sss sure, missster." The tiny hand reached out for the coin.
"Nothing better happen to him, until I get back, y'hear?" Steve tried his best intimidation face, which made Bucky have to suppress a giggle.
"Thanks Steve. I have a stuttering kindergartener as my guard dog. Great job." Barnes snarked.
"You… you just shut up. Stay still. I'm getting Momma." Steve bit back trying to keep his temper in check.
"I'm not going nowhere. Nope. Not with this colossus here to guard me." Bucky almost sang, but it hurt to much to speak very loudly.
"JERK!" Steve attempted to shout over his shoulder as he walked away, too weak to run home.
"Punk." Barnes said softly, closing his eyes, wondering what did he ever do to get a friend like Steve.
"Yes, Ma'am it's broken. I can tell right here." The physician lightly touched Bucky's shin making him wince in his bed. Rogers was standing nearby watching cautiously, but not too close, his butt too sore to sit even if he was exhausted from his rescue efforts and swayed where he stood.
Mrs. Barnes gave her son a cross look that meant if he were not already damaged, she would certainly be inflicting some of her own. James hunkered down from her scrutiny. "And the other injuries?" Her tone was half overtiredness, half frustration but all tough love as she wiped a curl back from her forehead with her hand.
"He has two broken ribs and those can only be bandaged. He won't be able to move around much until those set. At least three weeks." The doctor informed, pointing to Bucky's chest.
"Three weeks!" Mrs. Barnes exclaimed.
"Yes, ma'am. The rest of the injuries are superficial. I'll start setting the leg right now. You might want your younger son to lea-" the doctor was interrupted by two simultaneous voices.
"I'm not going."
"He's not going."
Mrs. Barnes looked grumpily at the two boys even if it wasn't Steve's fault for Bucky getting jumped by two larger men with baseball bats, to rob him of what little paper route money he had earned after getting paid on the way home from school. Three weeks. That was a lot of paper deliveries that wouldn't happen. And then there would be the doctor bills. And school to catch up on. And one more damn thing to worry about. She'd have to dip into that tiny bit Laura Rogers had given her for Steve's care. She hated doing that. Laura meant that money for Steve.
"He can stay. They're the same age anyway. "Mrs. Barnes said tiredly and left the room, closing the door behind her.
The doctor gave Steve an appraising and confused look because they were certainly not twins. Rogers tried to stand up straighter, again to no effect. Making a small tut tut noise he reached into his bag and pulled out rolls of gauze and a container of plaster powder. "Son, would you mind asking your mom for a pitcher of water and a bowl?" the doctor asked Steve not trying to tease apart their exact relation.
"Sure thing." Steve piped up and left the room.
The doctor turned back to Bucky a grim look on his face, "This is going to hurt. I didn't want your… friend to see it."
"Steve can handle any- AGH!" Bucky began to argue when the doctor set the bone in his leg in one quick motion. The pain shot through his body like a bolt of lightening and then all went dark.
"What! What jus'happened!? Whatdidya do to Bucky!" Steve rushed the room, eyes panicked, the pitcher of water sloshing in his hand and a bucket about to drop from the other.
The doctor took the two things away from Rogers quickly or all the water would be on the floor, "I set his leg. It hurts and caused him to black out. He'll be alright. Now help me make a cast."
When it was done, the doctor wiped up the wet plaster and cleaned Bucky's other wounds. Steve helped to bandage Barnes' ribs that were splattered with a darkening purple bruise where the bat had hit him. Bucky still slept on. The two of them calmly regarded the patient and their handiwork.
"For a kid, you are certainly helpful." The doctor remarked, wiping his hands dry on a rag and stuffing it back into his satchel.
"I'm sixteen. I'm no kid." Steve replied darkly.
The doctor glanced at him, sensing the insult, "Sorry. I didn't mean –"
"Don't worry. I've heard it all my life." Steve replied and gave a sarcastic grin, "I got used to it."
Changing the subject, the physician asked, "Your friend here. He's always getting in trouble?"
Steve sat back and was about to speak when a racking cough hit him like a truck. The asthma and pneumonia squeezed tight around his battered lungs like iron straps. The doctor dove into his bag for an injection of pilocarpine, which he kept instead of the asthma cigarettes that everyone was prescribing. Rogers saw the shot coming and tried to run, but his lungs failed him, as he simply fell to the floor trying to catch is breath. "Wait! Just wait. This will help." The doctor said, "Your friend here said you can take anything."
Steve's wide blue eyes watched the needle slip into his vein and even he passed out.
The doctor withdrew the hypodermic and watched the drug take effect as Steve's chest rose and fell more smoothly and less spasmodically. With a satisfied smile, he put the injection away in his satchel. Picking up the light and willowy Rogers, he placed the teen into his bed. Feeling his head, the physician noticed that he was unusually warm. Taking advantage of his unconsciousness, the doctor produced his stethoscope and listened to the damaged lungs of the chronically ill Steve Rogers. Hanging his head, the doctor knew the outcome of this tale. But there was something about this young man he just couldn't put his finger on. Maybe his brother, Abraham Erskine, would like to look at him. Humming to himself, he decided differently. Perhaps another time.
Putting away his things, the doctor decided he needed to settle with Mrs. Barnes.
"Yes, he could work off the debt as my aide after school and weekends. I have a few things here that will help his asthma. No. Please. Keep them for him. He's… both are very special young men." Steve heard the voice of Dr. Aaron Erskine tell the protesting Mrs. Barnes. He had just woken up from his fainting spell and crept to the parlor doorway.
Him? Work for a doctor? How would Bucky make up his school work? Setting his jaw, he balled his fists in determination as the plan bloomed in his head. He'd have to teach Bucky. They were in the same grade, same classes. That meant no more getting sick. Three weeks, minimum. Steve was ready. It was his turn to take care of James.
Backpedaling quickly before Mrs. Barnes or Dr. Erskine saw him, he watched his foster mother show the doctor the door, thanking him profusely. He tipped his hat and departed.
"I know you are there, Steve." Mrs. Barnes said as she turned from the door.
Steve stepped into the light. No sense in hiding now, "So, I'm working for the doc now?"
"Well, until Bucky is healed up. And the good doctor is going to pay you too, in addition to working off our debt." She sighed, sinking down into a chair. It was never a dull moment but at least the girls had the sense to play quietly and not cause her the stress these two boys did. Looking at the scrawny man-child before her, Winifred smiled because she saw what the doctor saw too and it made her proud that her son and this boy were such close friends. "Quite a day, hmm?"
"Yes, ma'am." Steve replied uncertain if he was excused.
"Well, better get on. You have quite a day ahead of you now." She rose from the chair, smoothing her skirt, to get dinner ready.
"Yes, ma'am." Steve smiled a little then dashed as fast as he could back to Bucky to tell him the news if he was awake.
Steve looked haggardly at Natasha who had been hanging on every word. Rogers had a bit of a punch-drunk look on his face from the retelling of their childhood adventure. But at least it looked like he had lightened a bit. Cap hadn't even noticed the nurses who had come and gone, checking on the wounded Barnes.
"So you basically overcame pneumonia, went to school, tutored Bucky and worked for Abraham Erskine's brother?" Romanov summarized.
"Yeah. Bucky hated not going to school. Said I was going to get a big head from learning it once and then teaching it to him again at night. Plus, he said that Erskine was going to make me an egg head too." Steve laughed lightly. "But I worked it off, the doctor's bills that was. Actually, I'm not sure if he made me work it off as much as he 'forgot' about them. He was a very interesting man."
"Sounds like it, if he was anything like Abraham Erskine." Natasha agreed and saw a pinch of pain as Steve remember his assassinated friend that had seen the power of the little guy.
A nurse approached and Steve turned, hawk-like, to focus on her, "Yes?"
"We are ready to move Mr. Barnes." She said, "Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you he'll be loaded up shortly."
"Thank you." Natasha helped answer as Roger's attention was off the nurse and looking at his best friend.
"So, that must have been what he was talking about. How I helped him get home, patched up and back on his feet." Cap breathed quietly, watching the prone figure.
"Didn't happen to often in that order, hmm?" Natasha queried.
"Definitely not." Steve agreed watching the medical team prepare to move Bucky to the waiting quinjet, "Definitely not."