Tension
Tony blew up his lab on a regular basis. Bucky had learned not to worry about it. The whole HQ was blast-reinforced and storm proof, and nothing short of a nuclear bomb would do any sort of lasting damage.
He was, however, a little concerned when Tony and Bruce stumbled out of the lab, their clothes scorched and Bruce's glasses fogged with soot. He was more concerned still when Tony started whispering to Steve in low, harried tones.
"...if you've seen him..."
"...tell me what happened?"
"...don't know, it just glowed and exploded..."
It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Bucky set his book aside and headed for the dorms, and urgency put a clip in his step.
Vision...
It was quiet. Too quiet. The door was shut, and there was no light visible in the slat underneath, but Bucky had a gut feeling that someone was on the other side, and they weren't in good shape.
His footsteps were muted in the carpet, in the odd sort of quiet like walking into a hospital room. The backs of two knuckles on his flesh hand rapped against the door.
"Vizh?" he called softly, and his voice rasped a little. "You all right, pal?"
No answer. After a moment, the lock clicked.
Bucky tried the doorknob. It was locked stiff.
He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets.
Something wasn't quite right.
The twins' door was open, but it, too, was oddly quiet. There was none of Pietro's cheesy hardbass or Wanda's competing pop music to drown it out.
When Bucky poked his head inside, knocking softly on the door frame, Wanda sat on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing.
She stirred as soon as she saw him, and tried to pretend she was busy tidying up her laundry, but he saw through her act and frowned.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"You okay?"
Her hands slowed. She studiously didn't meet his eyes. "I'm fine."
He raised his eyebrows, sighed, and leaned against the door frame. What the hell had gotten into everybody?
Well, no time to dwell on that now. He'd come on a mission. "Can I ask a favor?"
She lifted her head immediately, almost as if she was looking for a distraction. "Of course." She sat forward eagerly. "What is it?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "Somethin's up with Vision."
Immediately, Wanda's face fell.
"You two are pretty tight, so I was wondering if you could...um..." Bucky tapped a finger against his temple. "Ask if he's doin' a'right."
Wanda turned away, very slowly, and he couldn't see her expression beyond the wall of brown hair.
"Vision and I aren't talking anymore," she said flatly.
Bucky took a slow breath. He felt like he was looking at an incomplete puzzle, and he wouldn't like the final picture once he got it together.
"Okay," he said gently, nodded, and left.
If super-soldier hearing picked up a sob, he didn't mention it—but he winced.
Bucky and Pietro sat alone on the Common Room couch, slouched and staring at the ceiling. Bucky's arms were crossed over his chest, and Pietro's knee was jittering.
Finally, Pietro exclaimed, "What is happening?"
"I don't know!" cried Bucky.
"Why is everyone angry?"
"I don't know!" Bucky twirled a finger at his head. "I thought you'd at least know what's up with Wanda, 'cause you can hear—"
"I can hear nothing!" Pietro gestured broadly with his hands, clearly frustrated. "I can hear she is...upset? I cannot hear why!"
Bucky blinked. This was news to him. "She can block you out?"
"I don't know!" Pietro's face was contorted with fury. "Yes?!"
Bucky groaned and scrubbed his hand down his face. "That and Vision..."
Pietro scowled and crossed his arms. "I say nothing when they go out dating, I say nothing when they make goo-goo eyes at each other, only because it makes her happy. If he broken her heart, prisahám bohu," he hissed and punched his palm, "I will punch his teeth into his throat."
Bucky mustered a shaky grin. "You might have trouble with that, pal. Those teeth are vibranium."
Pietro exploded.
"I don't care!" he roared. "Mama is gone, Ocko is gone, all I have is Wanda and she is half of me and she hurts and I can do nothing—"
He buried his face in his hands and was eerily silent.
Bucky understood. The outburst had surprised him, but he got it. He'd been a big brother himself.
The first fight he ever got into was when the butcher's kid was tugging on Becca's pigtails. He hadn't stopped punching bullies since. He would have been right there for her, and for Lydia, and for Rachel, for a long time afterward...if he hadn't fallen off that train.
He knew what Pietro was feeling. It boiled in his own chest—protectiveness, helplessness, anger.
Quietly, and staring down at his crossed arms, he rasped, "I hate feelin' like I can't help."
Pietro lifted his head. He was still deathly quiet. "Áno."
They stared at the ceiling a little bit longer.
A/N: EDIT: I forgot to mention that this chapter takes place after If: Then: Chapter 8, "Sound". For the reviewers who got it, good catch!
Sorry for the delays in responding to reviews! I've been grinding to get a HUGE project done for you guys, and I finally finished it TODAY! I hope you're in the mood for more angst lol. Trust me, the amount of sad stuff I'm putting out has nothing to do with my personal life, it's literally just coincidental and we'll be back to your happier scheduled programming next week.
STAY TUNED FOR DECEMBER 16TH!
All Sokovian, as always, is Slovak, at the mercy of Google Translate. Prisahám Bohu means "I swear to God", Mama and Ocko is Mom and Dad, and Áno means "yeah" or "yes".
Tbc...