Disclaimer: This is Marvel's sandbox. Most of the toys are theirs, but I did bring a few of my own.

Furnace

Bucky Barnes had once been a regular church attendee, appearing there every Sunday with his parents. He grew up praying before meals and at bedtime, reciting the familiar words taught to him by his mother, thanking God for all that was good in their lives. After he had been taken by Hydra, he still prayed often, at first to give him comfort and hope that he would be rescued and the torment would end. As time went on and no help came, he prayed first for the strength to endure, then for the ever-dimming hope that it would end, and finally for the sweet release of death. Years passed with no relief, and he had finally given up in angry despair, convinced that his God had forgotten him. Then they had started wiping his mind, and he forgot his God as well. Now, it had been decades since he and God had been on speaking terms, and he wasn't sure what he truly believed anymore, or even if he remembered how to pray. Instead, eyes focused on Nyssa's still form, he sent a wordless plea heavenwards.

"Cebisa, what's our ETA?" Sam called over the radio in Wakandan, glancing furtively at Bucky as he worked tirelessly to keep Nyssa as stable as he could. He half-nodded his head at her response, then continued. "Tell them to get a team ready. We've got a patient coming in critical condition, possible septic shock with multiple system organ failure." Bucky closed his eyes. Sam had probably been wanting to spare him the details, but didn't realize how much of the language Bucky understood by now.

"What are her chances?" he asked quietly. Sam looked at him for a long moment.

"Hard to say," he finally admitted. "I've seen a lot of things. I've seen soldiers who should have been dead make a complete recovery. I've seen others with what seemed like minor issues take an abrupt turn for the worse."

"What is the most likely outcome?" Bucky asked, a hard edge to his voice. He wasn't looking for sugar coating. Sam sighed.

"It doesn't look good," he admitted. Bucky took in a deep, shaky breath and looked down at the hand lying limp in his. She was still there, albeit faintly. He closed his eyes and focused all his energy on holding on to her. If he could keep her from slipping away from him, maybe she could still pull through, by some miracle.

If only he still believed in miracles.

"Guys, you should check out the engine room if you have a chance. It's so amazing, I've never seen anything like it…" Scott suddenly stopped talking as he rounded the corner and saw Steve and Nat in the command center. Frowning, he pointed at Natasha. "Where did you come from?"

"Originally? Russia," she quipped with a toss of her hair. Scott shook his head.

"No, I mean… you weren't here when we took off. I'm almost positive about that," Scott protested, frowning and getting a faraway look in his eye as he tried to replay the fight and takeoff in his mind's eye.

"She came with Tony, but opted to stay behind with us," Steve offered helpfully. Scott's eyes widened.

"Tony? As in Tony Stark? As in, Tony Stark was here? Recently?" he spluttered.

"He left about ten minutes ago," Natasha confirmed. Scott put a hand to his head.

"And I completely missed it. I just… I can't… I'm going back to the engine room."

It was a waiting game until they touched down back in Wakanda, and then everything seemed to happen all at once. Bucky paced beside her bed as it lifted, hovering, and bore her still form into the palace and towards the medical wing, surrounded by the royal medical staff. She would have the best medical care anywhere on the planet. He just hoped it would be enough.

He had to finally let go of her hand as they pushed her into the diagnostic suite, trying to fight the feeling that if he let go of her, she would slip away forever. He recognized Shuri and Kuhle, watching the readouts on the screen as their scanners took numerous readings of Nyssa and fed the information to them. Kuhle clucked her tongue in horror.

"No spleen, no uterus, missing about a meter of intestine, only one kidney… sluggish immune response. It's a wonder she even ventured into a tropical region to begin with," the neurosurgeon muttered in Wakandan to the king's sister. She responded with narrowed eyes.

"She is either very brave, or very foolish," Shuri declared.

"Some of both," Bucky replied from beside them. It was his first attempt at speaking the local language, and the words felt clumsy and strange in his mouth, but he must have gotten them mostly right, judging by the astonished looks they gave him. He inclined his head towards the window. "Most of the missing… parts… are from trauma… when she was sixteen." The two women exchanged looks, and Kuhle shook her head.

"Remind me never to go there for medical care," she muttered. "Or a vacation." Shuri snorted. Kuhle frowned and pulled down a transparent control pad, punching a few commands in to take different views and get more information. "Fascinating. Her brain is like nothing I've ever seen. There's an entirely unique structure, there in the middle." She enlarged the image. "I wish I had a clean version to compare it to. That… metal atrocity skewers it, here, here… here and here."

"If these readouts are correct, they did not use medical-grade wires, either," Shuri pointed out. "These actually are generating heat as they pass through the brain." Kuhle made a disapproving noise and shook her head.

"That will need to come out immediately. It is astonishing that she still lives," she muttered.

"So," Bucky interrupted. "Can you save her? Can you restore her sight?" Both Shuri and Kuhle turned to look at him as if surprised to find him still standing there. Shuri signaled two of the nurses, and they stepped into the suite and began escorting Nyssa's table off into the medical center.

"We will do all we can," Shuri assured him.

"If there's anything I can do…" He trailed off, first realizing he had reverted back to English, and also suddenly thinking of his serum-enhanced blood. Maybe a donation could give her the strength to fight… But then he remembered the initial pain after getting the serum, the feeling that his body was devouring itself, and thought maybe she wasn't in any condition to handle that. Fragile wasn't a word he had ever associated with her before, but…

"I will let you know," Shuri promised, switching to English as easily as he had.

He watched Nyssa disappear, and realized that, for him at least, the fight was over. The rest was up to her. She was going to need all the help she could get. Closing his eyes, he sent the same wordless prayer, but this time found some words to chase it with. Please, let her live.

With nothing left to do but wait, he returned to the living wing to unpack. He arrived just as Steve was showing Natasha to her quarters, two doors down from Bucky's.

"Nice to see you guys have been living in style while you've been on the lam," she commented dryly.

"I suggested to King T'Challa that he keep us in the dungeon, but he made a different call," Steve answered. Natasha glanced at him as if not sure whether he was joking or not. His straight face gave nothing away. Her eyes widened slightly.

"There's a dungeon?" she asked, her tone intrigued. Steve raised his eyebrows at her.

"I don't think you're supposed to get that excited about things like that," he observed. Nat smirked at him. One of the doors further down the hall flew open, and Lila came flying out, her braids streaming behind her.

"See, I told you I heard Auntie Nat!" she called triumphantly over her shoulder, then hurtled down the hallway and launched herself into Natasha's startled arms. Behind her, Cooper, Nate and Clint piled out of the door, eager to see their unexpected visitor.

"Hey, kiddo," Nat said affectionately, giving Lila a tight squeeze. "It's so good to see you guys." She shot Clint a wide-eyed look of surprise. "I didn't expect to see you here. And alive." The biting undertone told Clint she was relieved to see them, but upset at being left out of the loop. Nate threw his little arms around her leg, clinging to her, and Natasha reached down to ruffle his hair affectionately.

"I didn't have time to update you since the news," Clint replied abashedly. "Laura's here, too. With our brand-new baby girl." Natasha's eyes widened again, this time in excitement.

"Do you want to come meet her?" Lila asked eagerly. "She's so cute!"

"Yeah, super cute," Clint agreed. "The baby's pretty adorable, too." Cooper rolled his eyes.

"Dad, you're such a dork," he grumbled. Clint ruffled his hair affectionately.

"That's my job, you know," he pointed out. "My other job. I have two of them. Saving the world, and being a dork to embarrass my kids."

"Does that mean I can fire you?" Cooper shot back. Clint shook his head.

"No, that takes a three-fourths vote of no confidence and a motion to fill the position with an already-identified more qualified candidate, which must be made while standing on your head under a waterfall while gargling whiskey and reciting your mother's favorite poem at the same time." Cooper scoffed at him, and Clint slung an arm over his shoulder as they made their way towards the hospital wing. "Hey, don't blame me, that was part of the contract your mother wrote up." Cooper let out a disbelieving huff of air.

"Yeah, right. Mom would never let us have any whiskey," he argued. Clint grinned and tapped his temple.

"See how clever your mama is?" he replied triumphantly. Steve shook his head, smiling at their antics and obvious affection. His smile faded slightly as he saw Bucky standing at his door, watching their interactions soberly.

"Hey, Buck," he said softly, crossing the rich, inlaid hardwood floor. "How's she doing?" Bucky shook his head.

"Don't really want to talk about it," he admitted, but held up his phone. "They'll call me if anything changes." Steve nodded his understanding. Bucky stood for a moment staring off into his room, his expression blank. Then he seemed to recall that Steve was there, and looked over at his friend. "I guess I'll try to get some rest." Judging by his expression, even he didn't believe that he was going to be able to sleep, but Steve knew enough to give him space.

"All right. Good night, Buck. Hopefully we'll have good news by morning."

She was falling, falling, falling forever, her screams swallowed by the vast abyss. The darkness consumed her, thinned away her essence until she was insubstantial as air. The ghost of Marcus howled accusingly at her, and her limbs were so heavy she couldn't move them. All around her, monsters with the faces of Count Nefaria, Sturdy, Luca and the rest of her captors jeered mockingly, unfeeling hands holding her down while she fought helplessly. Vines grew from her arms, and she pulled them out, determined not to let them take root in her flesh. Flames leapt all around her, but she still shivered with cold. Marcus joined a host of other lost souls, the ones that infrequently haunted her nightmares, the ones that she hadn't been able to save. Their restless hands plucked at her, demanding to know why she still lived while they did not. She shrieked at them to leave her alone and scrambled to escape, but could not get away.

A new ghost joined the others, one that seemed familiar and somehow soothing. Cool hands brushed against her too-hot face. We're trying to help, Nyssa. Just relax. The voice in her head was recognizable, though she could not place it, and drowned out the cacophony temporarily. Almost despite herself, she did relax, allowing herself to drift on the turbulent ocean of grief and terror rather than fight against the current. Surprisingly, she did not drown, but found herself floating further into the darkness, which seemed less threatening and more comforting to her weary senses. It wrapped around her like a thick blanket, blocking out everything else, and she surrendered to it, slipping into the calming nothingness of oblivion.

Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, NotMarge, karina001, LadyAmazon, Amie357, .2018 and Demigod-GallagherGirl for your reviews!