Prompts: Blood Covered Hands/"I don't want to do this again"/Catatonic

Clint/Bucky

Another continuation of an earlier chapter; the one where Clint and Bucky meet at Oktoberfest

At the rate I'm going, I will have several new stories to work on!

"So," Bucky said, his arm still around Clint's shoulders. "I know this isn't the best atmosphere to get to know each other, seeing how we're surrounded by thousands of drunk people, but then again, maybe it is." He drew Clint closer to him. "No one will pay attention to us, so we can get lost in anonymity. You okay with that?"

Clint looked at Bucky. The only coherent word he could utter was, "Yeah."

"Good. You hungry? I know I am." With the look emanating from Bucky's steel blue eyes, Clint felt he was talking about something other than food, which he was so on board with. "What sounds good?"

It took all of Clint's restraints to not respond with "you," but he didn't want to mess this up, what with Bucky being Steve's best friend and Natasha dating Steve. Clint didn't want to mess that up, so he refrained from answering how he wanted and said, "Brat burger?"

"Good choice, Clint. Sounds delicious." Before he knew it, Bucky had steered them into a line of customers. When they got to the register, Bucky ordered for them. "Four brat burgers, two with sauerkraut, two without, a pretzel, a piece of cheesecake, and some apple strudel, please." As Bucky was ordering, Clint reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet, but Bucky put his large hand over Clint's slightly smaller hand. "I've got it, babe." Bucky flashed him a smile that could light up the darkest black hole in space. When the worker slid the trays out to them, each man took one, walked into the large, open tent, and found a couple of spots at one of the hundreds of large picnic tables.

"I can get us some beers," Clint said before sitting down.

"Go ahead and have a seat," Bucky said. "I texted Steve. He and Natasha are grabbing those for us. With these crowds, that might take a while, so we'll have a chance to get to know each other." So, tell me about yourself, Clint Barton." Bucky dived into one of the brat burgers while listening to Clint talk about his work as an apartment manager and archery instructor. "Doesn't sound like you have much spare time for fun."

"To be honest, the apartment managing doesn't take up a lot of time. I let Tony know if anything serious needs repairs, and he sends over an expert."

"Tony?"

Clint nodded. "Tony Stark."

Bucky pinched off a large piece of the salted pretzel, dipped it in mustard, and ate it before replying. "We've got that in common. I start work for Stark Industries on Monday. R&D department."

"Congrats! Tony's a good guy. A little arrogant, but he's got a right to be with all he's accomplished. How'd you hear about the job?"

"He found me. I was going to school on the West Coast, finishing my masters, and was about to start job hunting when his company reached out."

Clint nodded. He knew Tony had his fingers in various fields, so he wasn't surprised to hear he'd found Bucky out west. "R&D, huh? How'd you get involved in that?"

Bucky pushed up his left sleeve, exposing his forearm, which was covered in fine scars and burn marks. "IED explosion in the desert." Bucky grew quiet, so Clint leaned toward Bucky to hear him easier. Bucky motioned to his left arm. "Most of the wounds happened when I helped people take cover. When I was in the hospital recuperating, I thought about how I could help others. Stevie and I used to sit around imagining what we wanted to do when we grew up. He always wanted to do something involving art, so what did he do? Combine it with his need to be the world's oldest Boy Scout and become a forensic artist with the police department."

"What about you?" Clint asked while nibbling on his burger.

"I was a nerd, always designing projects, so figured I'd be an architect or something like that. After the accident, the insurance paid for my medical bills and for me to go back to school. I researched and thought I could do some good by designing and developing prosthetics."

"Wow, that's, well, awesome. You took a horrible event and turned it into something positive."

Bucky snorted. "Didn't happen overnight. Happened to have a good therapist, Sam. He helped me through a lot of the emotions. Taught me to live in the moment and enjoy life." Bucky smiled again, reached across the table, put his hand on Clint's forearm, then began tracing the veins on Clint's hands. "So, that's what I'm doing, enjoying the moment and seeing where it takes me."

"And where is it taking you?" Clint gulped. He'd never met anyone this forward, but maybe that's where he'd gone wrong. Maybe he needed someone else to be in charge for once.

"Wherever you are at the moment, Clint," Bucky smirked, linking his fingers with Clint's. "Now, tell me about yourself. How does one wind up teaching archery and managing an apartment complex for Tony Stark?"

Clint hated this part of meeting new people. They usually had one of two reactions. They would either look at him in pity and then disappear or be disgusted and then disappear. Either way, he ended up alone. Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Natasha knew Tony, and I needed a career change, so she recommended me for the job. As for archery, I learned it earlier in life and figured I'd share my knowledge by helping people learn a new skill."

"Clint, that is so inspiring. What did you used to do?"

'Here we go,' Clint thought. "I was in the circus, learned the art of pickpocketing to get extra money for food, then graduated to robbery."

"You did what you had to do to get by." Bucky lightly ran his thumb over Clint's knuckles. "I'm proud of you, Clint. No matter the reason, you're using your skills for the betterment of others, kind of like a superhero."

"Huh, never looked at it that way before."

"Just needed someone with a different perspective." Bucky leaned across the table and focused his blue eyes on Clint's. "I'm going to kiss you now."

Clint nodded and leaned toward Bucky. As their lips met, an explosion rocked the tent. People, tables, large speakers, and everything under the tent and the surrounding areas went flying. People began screaming in pain and terror. The tent caught on fire; flames erupted into the afternoon sky.

When Bucky came to, he was sprawled across the ground; a wooden bench was lying across his torso. "Damn, I don't want to do this again." He blinked a few times to regain focus, then moved his head to look for Clint. Bucky pushed the bench off and sat up. "Clint? Clint?" He cried out in a loud, panicked voice. He could stand up on shaky legs and took in the damage. Everywhere he looked, he saw bodies and pieces of equipment strewn around him. He started to have flashbacks from the prior explosion but shook his head to get those thoughts out of his mind. Others were walking around searching for loved ones, so he joined them in searching for Clint.

"Bucky! Bucky, are you here?" Steve's commanding voice could be heard over all the commotion.

Bucky turned toward where he thought Steve's voice was coming from. "Stevie? Finally, he saw Steve and Natasha stepping over debris and walking toward him. Bucky immediately wrapped Steve in a bear hug, afraid to let go.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm here." As the two hugged, Natasha rubbed circles on Bucky's back.

Finally, Bucky sniffed and backed away from Steve but did not let go of him. "All I could see was the desert again, Stevie." Bucky frantically looked around. "Where's Clint? I can't find him, Stevie."

"Okay, we'll look for him. Look at me, Buck. Put your hand on my chest, and follow my breathing." Steve held Bucky's hand to his chest until he was sure Bucky wouldn't hyperventilate.

"He was wearing purple tennis shoes," Bucky said. "Let's look for those." The trio split up, calling Clint's name. Steve and Natasha stopped and helped anyone they could as they searched. After about 15 minutes, Bucky saw what he thought were Clint's tennis shoes sticking out from underneath a table. Bucky stepped over people and went as fast as he could. He was able to move the table and found Clint unconscious with a broken tent pole speared through his upper right arm. "Oh, no! Clint!" Bucky knelt next to Clint. Bucky knew better than to try and remove the metal. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around the pole, trying to stop blood flow. "Come on, doll, be okay. Please be okay. We were just getting to know each other. Come back to me, Clint." Bucky became almost catatonic, rocking back and forth, holding the shirt around the pole. When Steve and Natasha found Bucky, his hands were covered with Clint's blood.

"Bucky," Steve got down on the ground next to his best friend. "Help is on the way. Stay with me, okay?" Bucky kept his hands in place until someone put their hands over his. "Buck, the firemen and EMTs will take it from here."

"Allow us to help your friend." Bucky turned his head and saw a large man with blond hair kneeling next to Clint's head. "My name is Chris, but you can call me Thor. My partner Bruce and I will take good care of your friend, but we'll need you to step back." Bucky nodded and, with Steve's help, stood and backed away, giving the men room to work on Clint. They were able to extract the pole and stop the bleeding. "We'll take him to Columbia. They already have triage set up there."

"Thanks, Thor," Steve said, patting him on the back. "We'll meet you there."

As the first responders prepped Clint and wheeled him away on a stretcher, followed by Natasha, Bucky scrubbed at his hands, trying to remove the blood. "He's got to be okay, Stevie. We were hitting it off. I know it's way too soon, but I can't lose him before we even start."

Steve hugged Bucky again. "He's in the best hands, Buck. I've known those two for years. Come on, let's get you to the hospital. You can be there when he wakes up, though I'm not sure why you'd want to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes."

Bucky knew Steve was trying to make him feel better. It helped a little bit, but he knew something else that would help, too. "If it's okay with you, I'm gonna have Sam meet us there. Think I can use all the friends I can get." Steve nodded, commandeered a police car, and drove to the hospital.