Bucky's sleep didn't last long. Before the hour was up, Bucky's nightmares had returned. He was too weak to scream, but Sam had heard him crying out and had found him tossing and turning in the bed, unable to wake. When Sam had finally gotten him to open his eyes, it was like the last time - Bucky might be looking, but he wasn't seeing.
Sam couldn't get close enough to be sure, not with the way Bucky was shaking every time Sam moved too close or too fast, but he was almost positive the fever had spiked again. Bucky was completely out of touch with reality. Sam had ended up backing away, stationing himself just outside the door, where he could see Bucky but the soldier couldn't see him. He was worried that his presence was just making things worse, and if Bucky got any more agitated, that he would end up hurting either himself or Sam.
The knock at the door made even Sam jump. He heard Bucky yelp, and saw him flinch wildly on the bed, then try to push himself into some kind of defensive position. He was too weak to move more than an inch or so, but it wasn't a good sign.
Sam hurried for the door, opening it just as Wanda raised her hand to knock a second time. She brushed her hair out of her face, revealing tired, sunken eyes. Sam felt a sudden rush of guilt for bothering her. Wanda had been among the casualties of the Snap as well, and to her, Vision might as well have died last week.
Still, Sam didn't really have another choice, unless you considered either dead or traumatized Bucky as a valid option. He resolved that he would just have to owe her one hell of a favor.
"Wanda. Thanks so much for coming," Sam said fervently, practically pulling her inside.
"You said it was...Bucky?" Wanda asked, sounding confused. Sam figured he really must have done a pretty bad job explaining the situation.
"Yeah, he got into it with those creepy monster things Thanos had, and now the wounds are infected, which is a little above my pay grade."
"And you're not taking him to a hospital because-"
"Not an option," Sam said firmly.
Wanda, bless her, seemed to accept it if not understand it. She nodded, twitching her fingers and summoning a few stray sparks. "I have a little healing magic I can try. Where is he?"
Sam heard a small, frantic gasp from the other room, and closed his eyes. "Uhh, actually, I don't think you can go in there right now. His fever is really high, and he's freaking out."
"Should you go in and calm him down first?" Wanda suggested.
Sam looked back at Bucky, who was tangled in the blankets and trembling lightly, eyes tightly closed. Based on the nightmares Bucky had been having earlier, Sam thought it wasn't impossible that, if he were to go in now, he would get hit.
"I'm not sure I can."
Wanda just stared at him.
This rubbed Sam the wrong way. "I'm trying my best," he burst out. "I've hardly slept, I've hardly eaten. He's...this has been completely exhausting, okay? And somehow, I've gotten him to agree to let me come into his room, to touch him, to take care of him. To get him help. This might take a while, but just...just trust me. I would know if I could go in right now."
"Alright," Wanda said, backing away from the door slightly. "So what do you suggest that we do?"
"His fever's spiking, and he's been in and out of nightmares for the past few hours. If he's asleep, I haven't been able to wake him up. But sometimes he'll wake up when his fever goes down naturally, and then he's a little more lucid. I think we should wait until that happens. Then I'll go in and calm him down, and then you can go in."
"Why don't I just try to heal him while he is asleep?"
Sam hadn't thought of that, and he froze. "No," he finally said, after a few seconds of consideration. "If you do a good job healing him, he may wake up afterwards, and there'll be a virtual stranger in his room. That seems like a recipe to get punched."
"Have you been punched?" Wanda asked.
"Not yet," Sam said darkly.
And so they settled down to wait. Every few minutes Sam would get up and call Bucky's name softly from the doorway. When Bucky was awake enough to handle a visitor, he would also surely be awake enough to respond.
After about an hour of this, Sam heard the distinctive sound of a key in the lock. He whirled around to face Wanda.
"Did you bring friends?" Sam hissed.
Wanda shook her head frantically.
"Sam? Bucky?" a horrifyingly familiar voice said from outside the door. "I'm home. Don't know how long I'll be able to stay, but-"
Sam was up and shutting the door to Bucky's room faster than he ever thought he'd moved. If Bucky would just stay quiet-
Of course, this was the time that Bucky chose to rouse slightly, and he mumbled something unintelligible, soft and sick-sounding. If Steve heard that, it was all over but the crying. The front door began to open.
"Distract him," Sam hissed frantically at Wanda, then opened the door to Bucky's room and slipped inside. Wanda glared at him as he shut the door, and he heard her retreat to the living room.
Sam turned to Bucky, who was lying rigid on the bed, staring at him.
"It's okay," Sam whispered. "Just me." He doubted Bucky would be able to process that, but he kept his voice soothing, hoping that the tone more than the words would reach Bucky.
Bucky looked as though he was going to try to talk, or move, or do something that would jeopardize the silence. Sam held up a finger to his lips, trying not to look panicked.
"Hello, Steve!"
"Oh. Wanda! H-hello?" There was the sound of someone setting down...bags, Sam thought. Thank God Steve was too polite to ask too many questions, like what the hell Wanda was doing in his apartment.
"I was hoping you would be here," Wanda said. She sounded nervous, or maybe that was just Sam projecting his own feelings onto the conversation. He shot a quick glance at Bucky, who luckily so far just seemed quietly confused.
"Oh," Steve said politely. "Here I am. I have about an hour or two, I think, and I brought some food back. Are Sam and Bucky-"
Bucky twitched, possibly at the sound of his name, and mumbled something to himself.
Sam shook his head, pressing his finger to his lips again. "Please, please be quiet, Buck." He didn't know if the ex-assassin was processing his words or if it was just dumb luck, but he did quiet down.
Back in the living room, Sam heard heavy footsteps, probably Steve trying to get further into his apartment. Lighter footsteps followed. "I was hoping to talk to you," Wanda informed him.
Steve sighed softly, sounding so worn out that Sam felt instantly guilty. "Sure. I have a few minutes, I just really wanted to see how Bucky was doing? And I picked up some DVDs that Sam was talking about-"
"I'm just so upset," Wanda blurted out. "And I could really use a friend to talk to. Please, can we go to a cafe or something? Unless you are too busy, of course-"
"NO! No, of course I'm not too busy," Steve practically yelped. "There's a deli a block or so from here."
"Thank you, Steve," Wanda said warmly, and Sam decided that he was never trusting anything she did again. The Sokovian was a good little actress.
"Can...do you mind if I just leave a note for Sam and Bucky really quickly?" Steve asked plaintively. "In case they wonder where I've been. And I think Sam's been really bored, I want to make sure he knows where to find the DVDs-"
"Of course," Wanda told him. Sam listened to Steve's pen scratching on his notepad and grimaced. He silently cursed Steve for being the kind of person that made you feel this horrible to lie to, even if it was for the right reasons.
"Do you know where they are? Steve asked. "I thought they would be home, and I'd love to at least say hi…."
"They're out," Wanda said firmly.
"They're…?"
"Out," she repeated. "I don't know where. They were both gone when I arrived. But I...I came here because I really needed someone to talk to, I'm just so sad and lost after losing…."
Wanda broke off, and Sam silently nodded his approval. He knew Steve would never be able to resist.
Sure enough, within thirty seconds, Sam could hear the sound of Steve and Wanda retreating. Bucky could apparently hear it too, and Sam supposed maybe something about the sound of Steve's voice walking away set him off. He started squirming, looking up at Sam with wide, plaintive eyes.
"Shhhhh," Sam mouthed. "Shhhh." He wondered if he would dare put a hand on Bucky at this point, if that really became the only option. It might quiet him down, but it also might make him yell.
"Steve?" Bucky whispered. Thank God his voice was weak from the fever, and Sam didn't think Steve would be able to hear. Of course Steve was the one goddamn thing that could penetrate Bucky's fevered brain, and now that was potentially going to get them caught out.
"Please be quiet, Bucky," Sam whispered.
Bucky hummed slightly, looking distressed. His breathing started to speed up.
"No, no," Sam nouthed. "Please don't say anything."
Sam's heart jumped into his throat as he heard the front door open. Bucky just had to last a few more seconds, just long enough for Steve to get out of the apartment-
The front door closed. They were safe. Sam breathed out a shaky sigh of relief.
"Alright, Buck," Sam said softly. "You can make all the noise you want now. Steve is gone."
Sam had no idea what was going on in Bucky's head, but it was clearly connected to Steve. He didn't seem to want to say anything more, now that Steve was out of the apartment.
"Are you with me at all?" Sam asked dubiously.
Bucky just stared at him. His eyes were wide and glassy with fever, his face pale aside from the flush spread over his cheeks. Sam wanted to feel him for fever again, but he was worried to touch the assassin at all when he was this out of it.
"Come on, Bucky," Sam said softly, choosing to lean against the wall instead. "You just gotta hold out for another hour or so." At least the Super Soldier seemed to be less agitated now, although Sam still worried that would change in an instant if a new person was introduced.
Bucky shifted slightly on the bed, a soft, pained sound escaping his chapped lips. Sam winced in sympathy.
"Wanda's coming back soon," Sam promised, knowing that Bucky probably wasn't even close to being able to process that. "She can help you, with her crazy magic. As long as you don't freak out on her…."
Sam spent the next hour rambling, afraid to leave the room in case Bucky panicked while he was gone, and Sam couldn't get back in safely. He knew he was talking too much, and that Bucky wasn't listening, and might even be a little overwhelmed by it, but Sam couldn't really help it at this point. He was exhausted, confused, and more than a little scared (for Bucky and for himself), and the idea of a silence remaining as such was unthinkable.
However, by the time Wanda texted Sam to tell him she was returning, he'd run out of steam. Bucky hadn't ever really gotten beyond confused-sounding murmurs, and Sam had dropped into a chair and was doing his best not to fall asleep when he saw Wanda's message.
"Wanda's coming back, thank God," Sam informed Bucky.
Much to his surprise, Bucky's eyes narrowed in confusion - more of a reaction than Sam had gotten in almost the past twelve hours.
"Wanda?" Bucky whispered. He clearly had no recollection of their original conversation, or of Wanda's brief arrival at the apartment. Sam wasn't even sure he remembered who Wanda was.
"Yeah. You remember her, red hair, red magic, she's gonna heal you? No hospitals?" Sam asked, a little desperately.
Bucky frowned a little, but seemed either too tired, too confused, or in too much pain to protest. "Okay," he murmured.
He closed his eyes partway, the dark lashes making his fever-pale skin look even paler. Sam looked away, praying that Wanda would actually be able to help.
This time, Bucky didn't panic at the sound of Wanda knocking at the door - at least, not too much. He did blink awake, his eyes widening and breath speeding up, but upon recognizing Sam he relaxed, ever so slightly.
"It's Wanda," Sam reminded him, just in case. "I'm gonna let her in. Is it okay if she comes in so she can try to help you?"
Bucky hesitated for a second, then nodded. Sam wasn't sure if he really processed the question, or if he was just responding to the tone of Sam's voice, but he simply didn't have another option at this point.
Sam left the room and hurried to the door. He let Wanda in - she looked harried and over-tired, more so than she had even an hour ago.
"Thanks for that," Sam said, guiding her back towards Bucky's room. "How was talking to Steve?"
"Intense, but...cathartic," she said. It was impossible to tell whether or not she was joking, but Sam didn't press.
Sam paused outside Bucky's door, swallowing hard. "Wanda's coming in now," he said. "Don't...don't freak out."
There was a small mumble of assent from inside the room, and Sam led Wanda into the dim bedroom and towards the bed.
"It's alright," Sam whispered, seeing Bucky tense slightly as the new person entered his space. "It's alright, it's just Wanda. I told you she was coming. She's here to help you."
"Let me examine him," Wanda said softly. She moved towards the bed as Sam looked on nervously. This really was the moment of truth - Sam doubted Bucky would be able to hurt Wanda at this point, even if he took her by surprise, but if he was terrified and wouldn't stay still, that would make him much more difficult to help. It would also make this whole process harder to watch.
"Don't touch him without warning him first," Sam said, suddenly feeling panicky. "And...and try not to touch him at all, if you can avoid it. If you have to, definitely make sure he's as awake as possible and looking at you, and don't be startled if he jumps a little…."
Wanda thankfully didn't seem to be judging either Sam or Bucky. She just listened to Sam carefully for a moment, nodded, and then turned back towards the bed.
"I'm going to take your blankets off," she informed Bucky. Bucky shifted towards the noise and nodded slightly, although even in the dim light his eyes still looked vacant and glassy. Sam wasn't sure if he really understood.
Carefully, Wanda reached out and pulled the blankets away, revealing the swathe of bandages stretching down Bucky's side. It was at this moment that Sam remembered that Bucky was wearing nothing but his boxers, and he coughed at the sudden rush of embarrassment flooding through him. He wondered if he should explain. He wondered if that would be worse.
Thankfully, Wanda hadn't seemed to notice either Bucky's lack of pants or Sam's distress.
"Bucky?" she said softly. His eyes flicked towards her, and she smiled at him. "I'm going to need to peel off one of these bandages, alright? So I can see what I need to fix."
Bucky blinked vaguely at her, and she stretched out a hand. As it got closer to his skin, Bucky twitched, eyes darting over Wanda's head, towards Sam. They widened slightly, as though Bucky were asking a question.
"It's okay, Buck," Sam told him. "She's helping."
The next time Wanda reached out, Bucky didn't pull away. He kept his eyes on Sam for the most part, occasionally shifting them down to Wanda if she moved too quickly, or did something that seemed to hurt. Sam tried to keep his face open and encouraging, nodding every once in a while so Bucky would remember that he was safe.
That was already a little hard, considering how exhausted he was, but it was made a good deal harder by the effort required to keep the shock from his expression. When he'd started this, his main goal was to not get murdered by a metal-armed assassin. He hadn't expected anything approaching this level of trust from Bucky, and now that he had it, he was terrified of doing anything that would cause him to lose it. Once again, he found himself praying that Wanda would be able to help.
"Alright," Wanda said, still keeping her voice soft, although she was now directing her words towards Sam. "I'm going to start the healing."
Sam frowned, trying to think of everything that could go wrong, everything that Bucky would want to know if he was conscious enough to be asking questions. "Do you have to touch him?"
"No. I think it will actually be easier if I do not. I will just direct the energy."
"Is it gonna hurt?" Sam blurted out. God, he hoped it wouldn't hurt. Bucky had been through more than enough pain in the past few days alone (not to mention the past eighty years).
Wanda frowned. "I don't know. I...I'll try to make it as painless as possible."
She closed her eyes, concentrating. Her fingers bent and twitched, beginning to shape a small ball of red light. Sam watched intently, still a bit unable to believe that he lived in a world with people capable of such things.
The healing seemed to take a while - longer than Sam had expected. At first, he wasn't sure that anything was even happening, the process was so slow. But eventually, he became pretty certain that Bucky's side was looking significantly less bad than it had ten minutes ago. The swelling had gone down some, and the skin around the wounds was less shiny and red.
Bucky started out fully awake, albeit fevered, and watched Wanda's every movement with glassy eyes. However, before long, Sam could tell he was getting completely exhausted - his eyelids were drooping closed, his hand relaxing slightly on the blanket.
"Are you almost done?" Sam asked, a little worried the assassin was going to fall asleep before she was finished.
Wanda didn't respond, and Sam supposed that was fair, as she was clearly concentrating. But about a minute later, she closed her hands and backed up a step. The red light vanished.
"That's as much as I can do," she said. She sounded a little breathless, and Sam wondered if the healing magic took more out of her than flinging around cars or stopping bullets or whatever. "They're not completely closed, but the infection is gone. Now he just needs time."
Bucky's head hit the pillow with a soft thud. His eyes were closed now, his limbs limp and loose. His breathing seemed deeper and more even than Sam had ever seen it.
"What did you do to him?" Sam gasped.
"Nothing," Wanda said quickly. "I didn't knock him out, I think he's just...asleep. His body has been through a lot. He needs some time to recover."
"Bucky?" Sam asked nervously, not quite believing that the Winter Soldier was really just sleeping. Sam hadn't seen him sleep this peacefully in...ever.
"Go away," Bucky mumbled, eyes staying closed. The words were slurred with exhaustion.
Wanda immediately and automatically backed up a step. It took Sam a second to even piece together why, and then he realized that Wanda wasn't sure if Bucky was threatening her. That hadn't even occurred to Sam - this was clearly Bucky's sleepy yet bitchy voice, and Wanda was in no danger. Sam couldn't believe he already knew some of Bucky's different voices.
"Let's give him a minute," Sam said, leading Wanda outside. "Thank you."
Wanda smiled a little, the first genuine smile Sam had seen from her in quite a while. "It was...nice. To be able - to help someone."
"You really, really did," Sam told her fervently. "You have no idea, but...thanks."
"Call me if you need me again," Wanda said, turning towards the door. She put her hand out to the doorknob, her shoulders slumping slightly. Sam imagined the empty hotel room she was headed back to, and reached out for her shoulder.
"Wanda. I'm...I'm so sorry. If you ever...feel like talking about it to someone, just let me know." Sam tried for a smile. "You know, talk to someone you aren't actively trying to keep out of their own apartment. I'll be here."
Wanda nodded, then quickly whipped around, pulling him into a sudden hug. She let go almost as quickly as she'd initiated the gesture, whispering "thank you" as she slipped out the door.
Sam blinked at the door for a few seconds, resolving to reach out to Wanda once the Bucky situation had been resolved. She was one tough cookie, but from Sam's experience, even the tough ones (often especially the tough ones) could use some checking up on.
But for now, Sam had a Super Soldier to look after. Bucky's door was still open, as Sam had left it when he and Wanda exited. He peered in far enough to see that Bucky was genuinely asleep. In fact, he could hear him snoring from the door. It was annoying, but after spending the last few days worrying that Bucky was about to die, Sam actually welcomed the sound.
Sam closed Bucky's door to a crack, then retreated to the spare room where he'd been staying. He...he actually thought that the worst was over. It had looked like the infection was gone, and when Bucky was awake again, he could try to confirm that, but that would have to wait. For now, Sam could actually sleep, which felt almost foreign at this point. He wondered briefly if he'd even be able to get to sleep, or if he was so wired that he'd just be tossing and turning for hours. He lay down anyway, and he was asleep the second he closed his eyes.
"Do they still hurt?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes at the Super Soldier. Over the past day or so, Bucky's cuts had been steadily healing. He wasn't running any sort of fever anymore (not that he would let Sam check his temperature again), and he'd actually started eating again. Sam wasn't sure if Bucky was making up for lost time, or if this was normal for him, but he thought Bucky might eat even more than Steve. He'd ordered pizza for the two of them a few nights ago, when Steve was out (again), and by the time he'd returned from the kitchen with plates, Bucky had already eaten Sam's portion. He didn't apologize, either. Still, as well as Bucky seemed to be doing, he was still moving too slow and stiff for Sam's liking.
Bucky gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Kind of. Lot better than they were."
"It's this afternoon you know," Sam blurted out. That's what he's come into the room to tell Bucky, even if he hadn't known that consciously.
"What is?" Bucky asked.
"Tony's...Tony's, um, funeral."
Bucky's face immediately darkened. "Oh," he said.
"I think...if you're feeling up to it, I think you should go," Sam said, all in a rush. "It seems...respectful, and everyone will be there and I'll...I'll stand right next to you the whole time-"
"Alright," Bucky said.
Sam blinked. He had previously only encountered the version of Bucky that was one stubborn motherfucker, so he was a little surprised. "Are you...sure?"
Bucky considered briefly, and then slowly nodded. "I think I'll make an appearance. I don't have anything to wear though."
Sam looked the assassin over. Sam had bought him a new pair of tight black pants, to replace the ones he'd had to cut open, along with a form-fitting black jacket. There was no time to get him something else.
"Um, these will do fine," Sam said. "I'm sure...I'm sure everyone will understand."
"Are you sure they'll want me there?" Bucky asked softly.
Sam wasn't, not entirely. He was sure Bucky's appearance would be controversial. But Steve would want him there, and the Wakandans would want him there, and Wanda would want him there and...Sam wanted him there.
"They'll want you there," Sam said, and he knew his surety came across in his voice. "We should go get ready. Probably need to leave in about an hour."
Sam turned to leave the room.
"Sam?" Bucky asked softly, and Sam froze. "Thank you."
"For what?" There were a thousand things from the past few days that Sam thought he honestly deserved to be thanked for.
"I'm not sure," Bucky said quietly, hesitantly. "But just...thank you."
"Any time."