A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to update! Holiday planning has been nuts, I keep losing track of what day it is, haha...

"All right, you keep still until this is finished. Evelyn, make sure the epinephrine is at the ready in case we need it. The sooner we're ready to get this over with, the better," instructed the doctor as he worked. The nurse whom he addressed set out the remaining supplies. Steve sat in a chair near Bucky's bedside. Bucky only vaguely heeded the conversation; his fever had gone up again during the night.

Steve winced when the needle went into his elbow. "That's a bit bigger than a penicillin shot…nevermind," he commented, earning confused glances from just about everyone present. Stark was the only one who got the reference. Peggy was there as well, but she would have been out of earshot at the SSR lab in New York. The other Commandos hovered on neighboring billets or paced the ward.

"You're sure it'll be safe this way?" asked Falsworth.

"As sure as I can be, I've calculated for every factor I could think of," Stark told him, fidgeting. "Really the only difference is that the original machine dispersed the serum throughout the major muscles. And, well, the Vita-Rays sped up the reaction."

"Any way we could get some of that in here before we try this? How long could it take without that stuff?" Gabe chimed in.

"Uh, we kind of busted the machine in the process, and then a spy tried to blow up the lab. As for how long, I wager it'll mostly depend on how much material comes out of step two…and how it interacts with what Zola gave him…and the regenerative predisposition of a sick subject versus…well, a healthier one…"

"You wager?"

"The complete process as we designed it took 60, maybe 90 seconds, whatever you want to make of that. A data set of one isn't much to work with," groused Stark. He threw a pointed gesture toward Steve.

The others stirred nervously. Steve turned as best he could without disturbing his arm. "Look, Bucky agreed to it. We explained the risks. He's got the right to change his mind at any time, too. We'll figure out how to help him through it."

If Bucky was following the debate going on around him, he didn't offer any response. That's what worried Steve. The nurse refreshed the compress, moving it around Bucky's pale face and neck. Consenting or not, he was running out of time.

At last, the doctor declared they had as much blood as he dared draw in one sitting. He dubiously handed the bottle to Stark, who made the careful trek to the corner of the room. The engineer had set up a rudimentary centrifuge there in remarkably short order. The medical staff wouldn't let him use it any closer.

"He couldn't put together another speed-up-the-reaction machine, but he could figure out that thing," grumbled Morita.

"One, it was easier to find a high-power fan in this place than the parts I would need for a Vita-Ray chamber," Stark retorted over his shoulder, fastening smaller tubes into his contraption. "Two, you couldn't get enough power for a hundred miles around here to run the thing if I did build it, sorry."

There wasn't much point trying to talk over the noise once the bladeless fan started up. The tedium and anxiety was palpable, yet no one budged from the room. Peggy wandered over to Steve, giving his shoulder a squeeze. At least her previous anger seemed to have faded. She offered him a comforting smile. In the monotonous noise, everyone waited.

The quiet was almost a physical pressure on their ears when the jerry-rigged machine stopped. Stark juggled vials and syringes, muttering under his breath as he worked, until he turned around with a full syringe so dark it was opaque.

"Almost a full unit of plasma, there as well, which I'm sure will be of use to someone at some point. If this is going to work, here's our best shot. No pun intended. I'd put it straight into a vein rather than muscle, if I were you, for best circulation," he explained.

"Is that all?" snipped the doctor.

"It's as close as we can get to a concentrated dose, and will probably go faster this way than if we infuse it into the IV."

"I might as well hang up my white coat and leave you to it then, I suppose?" the doctor remarked sourly. "Not much point in me being here as a doctor with you all giving the orders."

"I'm just giving you what's going to be most useful in terms of the science. Administering it medically is still up to you."

"If it were up to me, we wouldn't be doing this in the first place. But if you're going to insist on pursuing this foolhardy experiment, I can't just look the other way, can I?"

He carefully took the syringe from Stark. Steve immediately got to his feet, but the white-coated man blocked him. "You stay put. The last thing I need is a second patient passed out on the floor." Shaking his grey-templed head, he lined up the needle, and sighed, "I'd make peace with God right about now, we're going to need all the blessing we can get."

Bucky didn't react outwardly to the injection. As they watched, however, that didn't stay the case for long. First he tensed up, not an unusual occurrence with the pain from his stump. Then a definite struggle began to play across his face. A pinched moan escaped his throat.

"Bucky, talk to me," coaxed Steve.

"Uggh…hurts…" his wounded friend replied through gritted teeth.

"I know, it's pretty bad right now. Before you know it you're going start feeling better."

"Noo…not that…the stuff…agh, it burns!"

"I take it this is the discomfort you mentioned when you underwent the procedure, Captain," noted the doctor.

Bucky's voice rose to a howl as he strained against the leather holding his limbs, startling everyone assembled. A couple of the Commandos rushed in so Steve wouldn't.

"You sure it's supposed to work like this?" asked Morita.

"It looks worse than it is, although I guess having me locked in a metal chamber made it easier on the spectators either way," Steve refuted. He failed to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

Gabe stared at him. "I'm sorry, how is screaming in agony not as bad as it looks?"

"That chamber was also what kept the duration of your ordeal brief. There's got to be a better way, anything," protested Falsworth as he rounded on the super soldier.

"We don't have anything else. Surgery was too risky unless his condition magically improved, nor has the go ahead been given to evac him to a more equipped hospital!" Steve shot back at them all. Peggy's grip on his shoulder only barely reminded him stay seated.

"But you figured he could survive this?" blustered Dum Dum.

"Doctor, we might need a bite block, especially if he seizes," warned the nurse. She tried to tend to Bucky as he thrashed and cried out. Dernier exclaimed something in French.

"Can't we stop it somehow, keep it from getting worse?" Gabe translated.

"What do you think I can do, un-inject the stuff? Fluids may still dilute it, assuming I can maintain the IV line, but the blood's going to do what it's going to do," snapped the doctor, handing the bite block to the nurse and taking over direct care of Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes—James, listen to my voice. I know it's hard, but I need to you try to relax. The calmer you are, the better I can help you. We're all right here."

Bucky was incoherent, if he understood them at all. Between the nurse, Morita, and Gabe, they held him down enough for the doctor to add secure wrapping to the fragile line in Bucky's good arm. Very slowly, the chaos in the room started to die down. Bucky's limited flailing subsided bit by bit, though he clearly remained in pain. His now-flushed face contorted with the effort to withstand the immediate effects of Steve's super blood.

"What about morphine, could you at least give him that?" Falsworth ventured.

The doctor took a deep breath. "We need to be careful. No telling how it might interact, not to mention the longer term effects of the regimen he's already been on. I'm not sure of anything from here on out. Just pray that it works the way you think it will." He threw an unreadable look at Steve.

"We'll take shifts, keep a constant eye on him until we get…a better idea of things," pronounced Dum Dum.

"And you will not be going first," Morita jumped ahead of Steve before he could so much as open his mouth. "Get some sleep, you already practically look like a vampire. I'll knock you out myself if I have to."

"Okay, okay, I will. Though I'd like to see you try that someday," Steve attempted to lighten the mood.

He refused to go all the way to the barracks, however. Too far away, should something happen. The others insisted he wasn't going to relax if he didn't leave. In the end the doctor had the last laugh, sticking him with what must have been a sedative. It sort of worked. The sun was at a markedly different angle when Steve was fully lucid again, in a bed at the far end of the ward. Nothing much else had changed.

Well into the evening, Bucky was still tenser than a piano string. He showed some recognition of the comings and goings around the room, but didn't, or couldn't respond to anything directed at him. The only sounds he made were frequent whimpers and moans as the serum-blood made its way through his system, with no clear signs of improvement or deterioration. In all likelihood he wasn't getting any meaningful rest.

Doubt gnawed at Steve the longer this drew out. Was he really so desperate to save his friend that he would inflict a worse fate on Bucky? What if this never improved? What if, like Bucky said, it still wasn't enough? Even though Bucky had agreed to the attempt, Steve felt the responsibility for subjecting him to it.

Someone brought food, which the assembled group picked over. Steve found it at least gave him something to do. They had a quieter lull for the moment. Then a distinct shift in Bucky's breathing jolted Steve out of his thoughts. In fact everyone was on instant alert. The change was far from at ease, but much less hampered, more under control than the past hours had been. Pale and sweat-soaked, Bucky squinted his eyes open.

"Wha…what happened…?"

"Sergeant Barnes, how are you feeling?" Evelyn the nurse cut in before anyone else could start firing off questions.

"Been better…where's Steve?"

"Right here, Bucky. Not going anywhere until I know you're doing okay," Steve answered, his knees practically shaking with relief.

Bucky fidgeted uncomfortably. "The cuffs're really tight…was it that bad?"

"It might just feel that way after how you were struggling against them. You couldn't exactly help it. I'm sorry, I wish we could have predicted how rough it would be." Some of the others glared at Steve, but he gave a subtle 'not now' head shake.

"Even the bandages though, ugh, can't we do something to let this up?"

Evelyn brought over an examination light in the dim room to check Bucky's left arm, in the process showing them the real reason for this development—not because anything had been done too tight, but because Bucky had outgrown them. Steve should have made this connection sooner. It wasn't as pronounced a difference as his own transformation, yet Bucky had gained noticeable muscle mass thanks to the improvised treatment.

"How are you feeling otherwise, still in a lot of pain?" asked Steve. Everyone else stood there flabbergasted.

"It's there, fading slowly. I'd appreciate if my extemities weren't also going numb."

Evelyn shifted, reticent. "The doctor will have to make the call on taking off the restraints—"

"We're not talking about removing them so far, just going a notch or so looser. We can do that one at a time. He's not causing any trouble right now," Steve rushed over her. Bucky shot him an incredulous look, but even that was a welcome improvement.

Finally she relented. Relief spread across Bucky's face as the adjustments were made. Next she went back the bandages on his arm, which had become so tight she had to use a pair of scissors to cut them off. Her mouth dropped open—the bullet wound had disappeared completely. The infection had yet to show much difference, but Bucky seemed less sensitive to every touch and movement while she redressed that part.

"Looks like we might just have some luck left." Steve broke into his first genuine smile in days.

A throat was cleared behind them, taking everyone by surprise. One of the junior radio men stood awkwardly at the edge of the exam light's reach. "Pardon me, Captain. Colonel Phillips is calling in for you. Urgent business. Says he wants the rest of your unit to listen in, Agent Carter too."

"He must have cracked Zola at last," concluded Peggy. The energy in the ward became much more animated.

"Go Steve," Bucky agreed, nudging Steve toward the door. "I'm okay here, I promise."

"You sure? It's been an eventful day."

"I could use some real quiet, that's for sure. Can't get a moment's peace with you all buzzing around. You've done everything you needed to here, now go win this war. You bust down their front door."

Steve clapped Bucky's good shoulder, nodded to Evelyn, and motioned the others to follow the radio man.

Steve turned his helmet over, passing it from one hand to the other, as he watched the final supplies being loaded. "No, make sure those zip lines go with Jones' team. They're splitting away from the main force well before we reach the target." A waving ground crewman caught his attention; he jogged across the teeming base yard to a makeshift airstrip, where a couple more crewmen and Stark bustled in and out of a small plane. To one side, a medic waited next to a raised stretcher. Bucky lay there, bundled up and propped with a stuffed bag, but awake. He smiled as soon as he saw Steve approaching.

"Looks like we're both getting out of here," he said by way of greeting.

"Yeah, they needed the break in air traffic to bring in a couple more things, so naturally there's a chance to fly out as well," Steve replied. "You're in good hands."

"Works for me. Stark wants to start hammering out details on this prosthetic idea as soon as we get to England, should keep me plenty entertained until you get back."

"The first place you're going is a real hospital, so they can take care of that arm of yours."

"Aww, let me have a little fun. You know, I told them I could probably get on and off the plane myself, the way your serum's been working. They trussed me up like an invalid anyway." Bucky waved his good hand to indicate the layers, the blanket, the light straps for travel.

"Better to be safe. Don't go wearing yourself out too quickly just yet."

Bucky grabbed Steve's arm. "You be careful too. We both know Schmidt's a mean sonuvabitch. I don't wanna have to come out there and save you, punk."

"We'll get the job done." Steve looked up to see Stark walking their way. "You take care of him, okay? Keep him out of trouble."

"You keep your head in the mission. We'll see you on the other side, you and the other Commandos," the engineer reassured him.

"Cap, they're ready to head out, you'd better saddle up!" Morita announced, joining them from the same direction that Steve had. He gave Bucky a light punch to the shoulder. Stark and the medic lifted the stretcher between them. Steve found himself reluctant to move.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he mustered in attempt to cover this fact.

"Hey, you're the one takin' all the stupid with you this time," chuckled Bucky. Steve watched until they made it to the open hatch. His friend waved, then disappeared inside.

"He's gonna be fine," said Morita. "C'mon, Phillips is gettin' antsy."

"Yeah, I know…" Steve muttered to himself.