Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count: 3156
Fic Notes: TonyBucky / Warnings for Anxiety, Character in a coma.
By Your Side (Is Where I Belong)
"I don't know what else I can tell you, Steve," Tony said, leaning back against the wall to try and take some of the weight from his shaking legs. "I'm lucky that I left there alive."
Steve frowned, taking in the blood streaked across Tony's face, the trembles running through his body. "Are you okay?"
"It's adrenaline," Tony bluffed, ignoring the pains shooting through his body, because he didn't have time to be hurt right now, not when Bucky was lying in a hospital bed, with doctors surrounding him, trying to save his life. "I'm fine."
"You're lying," Steve muttered softly. "Bucky's going to be fine, Tony. He's strong, and he's been through worse and pulled through."
Usually, Tony found Steve's optimism endearing, but right now, he didn't have the energy to deal with it. Tiredly, he nodded his head and then looked away, hoping that Steve would take the hint that he was done talking.
He could feel Steve's gaze burning into him, but he paid him no mind, choosing to glare at the white wall of the hospital waiting room. Eventually, Steve turned away and slumped down into a chair.
Tony knew he should join him, but he couldn't make himself move from where he stood. Not only was he unsure if his legs would even support him moving, but he could see the corridor of the room Bucky was in, and he drew some comfort from that.
If anything happened… Tony would know.
…
"So, how bad is it this time?"
Tony winced at the question, and Natasha slapped the back of Clint's head as they walked into the room.
"We don't know anything yet," Steve said softly. "Hopefully they'll be able to give us an update soon."
"Here, dude," Clint said, offering a takeaway cup to Tony. He could smell the cheap coffee, and it was enough to make him queasy, but he took it anyway. The heat on his hand felt good, and he took a sip.
It was disgusting, but it was coffee, and Tony had drunk a lot worse in much better circumstances, so he couldn't bring himself to complain.
"Thanks," he murmured, attempting a tight smile for Clint. He didn't think he'd managed, when Clint clapped a gentle hand to his shoulder. "Coldstone will be alright, Tones. You know he'd never leave you."
Tony swallowed hard. He really wished he had the same optimism of his team, but he didn't. This wasn't a run of the mill injury, and even with the super serum, it wasn't a sure thing that Bucky was going to be okay.
A fresh wave of panic took over him, and he felt like something was clawing at his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. Clint barely got his arms out to catch him before his legs finally gave way beneath him.
Clint half lifted, half dragged him to the nearest chair, and Natasha took over, helping Tony lean forward. That sent a hurricane of pain that registered vaguely in his mind, telling him his ribs were probably, maybe, not okay, but it still felt better.
God, he was such a mess.
A large hand rubbed up and down his back, and for just a moment, Tony could pretend it was Bucky there calming him down from the anxiety attacks he still occasionally had. Of course, the reality of it being Steve stole away that pretence almost immediately.
"Breathe, Tones, breathe," Clint said, crouching down in front of him. He lifted Tony's hand to his own chest, so Tony could match their breathing, and it helped enough that he stopped feeling like his chest was going to explode.
"Sorry," he muttered, when he pushed himself back up into a sitting position, the pain in his ribs worse than the struggle to breathe easily.
Natasha just rolled her eyes at him.
The door creaked, and Tony cricked his neck when he turned too fast to see a doctor standing there. Tony refused to look at the blood on his apron, and kept his eyes on the man's face, trying to see if he was about to deliver good news or bad.
"Physically, Mr Barnes is stable," the doctor told them. Beside him, he felt Clint take a deep, relieved breath, but the wording wasn't what Tony wanted to hear. Natasha stiffened, clearly hearing the same thing Tony did.
"He'll heal—is already healing, in fact—but we're a little worried about his brain scans. Mr Barnes is currently in a coma-like state, and his brain activity is… minimal."
Tony tried to stand, but blackness encroached on the edges of his vision as he thought about Bucky, his Bucky, alive but no longer there.
No longer his.
…
"You're a sodding idiot," Rhodey told him, putting his feet up on the end of the hospital bed Tony had awoken in. "How long did you think you were going to last without treatment?"
Tony blinked at him. "Has Buck woke up yet?"
Rhodey sighed, his features softening. "Not yet, but his brain activity has increased some since the first scan. Everyone is hopeful that he just needs time to heal."
"I should be there," Tony said, trying to sit up.
Rhodey put his arm out to stop him. "You need to lie your fool ass back down, before you do anymore damage to yourself. Do you really think anyone wants to have to tell Barnes that while he was out, his boyfriend killed himself by being an idiot?"
"What if he wakes up and I'm not—"
"Steve is with him, and is on strict instructions to send word immediately if Barnes wakes up, Tones. I'll carry you there myself if I have to, when he's awake. But until then, you'll do much better staying in bed and getting better yourself, okay?"
Tony scowled, glaring at his best friend for a moment, before he flopped back down onto the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling, trying not to think about Bucky lying in a bed identical to the one Tony was in.
He hated the mental picture intensely.
"Steve's with him?" he asked, not looking at Rhodey.
"Hasn't left his side since the doctors said someone could sit with him," Rhodey replied. "And when he needs the toilet, Natasha or Clint take over. He hasn't been left alone, Tones."
"I should be there with him," Tony whispered. He tried to sit up again, and Rhodey groaned, sitting up and dropping his feet to the floor. He trapped Tony in the bed with strong arms, and then wrapped them around Tony hugging him as tightly as he dared.
"He's going to be okay, Tones," he murmured into Tony's hair. "But he won't be if you hurt yourself trying to get to him. You know what Barnes is like about guilt. How about we don't give him reason, hmm?"
"Rhodey—"
"Tones. Fractured ribs and internal bleeding aren't going to be healed overnight. You should have been checked immediately when you arrived here, but… well, I suppose I understand that Barnes was the priority."
Tony pulled back a little to look at him. "You told Steve off, didn't you?"
Rhodey chuckled. "When I got here, I might have had a word with him."
"It wasn't his fault," Tony defended softly. "He asked if I was hurt, I told him I was fine. I just wanted to see Buck."
"And Steve knows you well enough to know that," Rhodey pointed out. He perched on the edge of the bed, leaving one arm draped over Tony. "So he should have made sure you got checked out instead of waiting for you to literally collapse."
"Honeybear—"
"I've already said it to him, so there's no point telling me off now," Rhodey pointed out, shrugging lightly. "He accepted it, Tones. He knew he'd fucked up."
Tony gave him a slightly suspicious look. "Tell me that you didn't pull rank on him."
Rhodey just grinned. "I'm going to go and find a doctor, Tones. See if you're allowed something to eat or drink."
"I don't want anything," Tony replied, wrinkling his nose.
Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't."
…
Tony woke up to darkness. When he called for JARVIS to put the lights on and got no answer, he panicked for a minute, before he realised that he was still in the hospital, and therefore, had no JARVIS.
Rhodey had left shortly before he'd fallen asleep, with the promise to return the following morning, and friendly threats that Tony better keep his ass in bed.
Not that Tony had any intentions to listen. The cheap cotton sheets rubbed against his calves as he shifted to the edge of the bed, slipping out from beneath them, until he was sitting up right.
He was careful as he put weight on his legs, not wanting to spend the rest of the night on the floor, and when he was sure he could support himself, he carefully pulled the tubes and wires connected to him off, leaving them draped over the bed.
Leaving the private room, he quickly recognised where he was; being an Avenger meant he spent an inordinate amount of time at the hospital, be it for himself or one of the others, and they all knew their way around quite well.
The corridors were quiet—even hospitals slowed down in the middle of the night—and he quickly found his way to the room Bucky was in. He looked through the window first, supporting himself on the wall as he swayed slightly. The small walk had taken what little energy he had.
Bucky looked like he was sleeping. His face was peaceful, soft even, and the moon glinted off his gunmetal coloured arm, casting a strange glow over him. Steve was in one of the uncomfortable chairs beside the bed, asleep with his head propped up on his hand.
Tony slipped into the room, padding around the bed to the opposite side of where Steve sat. He dropped into the chair, and leant forward, ignoring the pain in favour of wrapping his hand around Bucky's, holding it as tight as he could.
Bucky didn't shift, didn't squeeze his hand in return, didn't do anything. Tony had never felt more hopeless of someone's recovery as he did right now. He knew it was because it was Bucky, and Bucky was Tony's to protect, even more so than the rest of the team.
Tears slipped silently down Tony's face and onto the cotton sheets as Tony let himself succumb to the emotions that he'd been fighting since not getting a reply over the comms when he called Bucky's name.
He fell into an uneasy sleep, sitting awkwardly in the chair as he tried to minimise his own pain without letting go of Bucky's hand.
…
"Tony, you're supposed to be in your own bed," Steve reprimanded softly, almost as soon as Tony opened his eyes the next morning. While Tony felt like hell, it seemed that the nap had rejuvenated Steve back to being his usual self; caring and sweet, but completely done with Tony's shit.
It was utterly familiar, and the look on Steve's face actually gave Tony a flutter of amusement, despite the lack of familiar chuckles from Bucky, that would have undoubtedly been heard had he not been in a coma.
"I… I can't leave," Tony said, sitting up a little. "I can't go back to that room, and lie on the bed, and just… not know how he is. I can't, Steve."
Steve wavered for a moment, and then nodded decisively, turning on his heel and marching from the room. Tony watched him go for a moment and then turned his attention back to Bucky.
He lifted the dead weight of Bucky's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the skin. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should have been faster. I shouldn't have let you separate from me when I knew it was a bad idea. I should have—"
"You should stop feeling guilty when it isn't your fault."
Natasha smiled slightly when Tony startled, and then walked around the bed to his side, stroking a hand through his undoubtedly disgusting hair. "Of course it was my fault," Tony replied, leaning into her touch slightly. "Everything I do is wrong when it comes to him. I just can't seem to get it right."
"Tony," she said, shaking her head. "He wasn't half as happy before he had you, you know that. Stop doubting how good you are for him; and him for you."
"I just… he shouldn't be here, Nat. I should have been faster."
"And he shouldn't have been an idiot and run off on his own when he knew you were working on the computers," she replied. "We all had our jobs, Tones, and it wasn't you that went off script. Besides… these things happen, right? How many times have we all sat around your bed, waiting for you to wake up from things that rightfully should have killed you dead."
Tony couldn't exactly deny that, but it never seemed as important when it was him that was hurt.
But… she wasn't wrong.
"I hate seeing him like this," he murmured, looking back at Bucky's face.
"We all do," Natasha replied softly. "But Tones, he's going to wake up, and he's going to be fine. He's healing, that's all. You know his serum is slightly different to Steve's, he doesn't heal quite as fast, and this is his body's way of dealing with that."
Logically, Tony knew she was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Steve came back into the room with a bag in his hand. "Come on, Tones."
"I'm not leaving—"
"We're going to get you cleaned up a bit," Steve interrupted. "And while we're doing that, they're going to move Buck into a slightly bigger room and get a second bed put in there for you, okay? So you can be comfortable and keep an eye on him… and so I can keep an eye on you, you stubborn git."
Tony really didn't want to leave, but the thought of a shower clinched it. He pressed another kiss to Bucky's hand before he left, and Natasha helped him up until he was within reach of Steve, who wrapped a strong arm around him, somehow managing to miss all the sore spots.
"Stay with him," Tony requested, looking back at Natasha.
"Of course."
…
Showered and changed into red and gold pyjamas, Tony sat on the edge of the bath to brush his teeth. Though the mirror was steamed up, he could see well enough to know that when Bucky woke up—because while he'd been in the shower, he'd forcibly decided that Bucky would wake up—he was going to be really mad about the state of Tony.
There were bruises all over him, and more cuts then he'd thought he had littering his face and neck. He looked like he'd been hit by a bus and then run over by a train—felt like it too.
By the time he was done cleaning up, he was so exhausted that he didn't even argue when he saw that Steve had located a wheelchair while he'd been waiting. He let his Captain—one of his best friends—push him through the hallways back to the man he loved.
As promised, the second bed was waiting for him, and Steve helped Tony into it, tucking him in carefully as Nat plumped the pillows.
"Think you can manage some ice-cream?" she asked, when Tony was comfortably propped up in the bed.
Tony wrinkled his nose but nodded, knowing that part of the pain in his stomach was now hunger, even if he wasn't particularly hungry. She gave him a knowing look and disappeared out of the door as Steve took a seat between the beds.
Natasha had barely returned when Rhodey walked through the door, shaking his head at Tony. "I should have tied you to the bed, shouldn't I?"
Tony accepted the bowl from Natasha, and grimaced at Rhodey. "Wouldn't have stopped me."
Rhodey gave him a look that was pure fond exasperation. "Of course it wouldn't. At least you're back in bed now, you pain in the ass. And you're going to stay there, aren't you, Tones?"
"At least until Bucky wakes up," Tony promised. "And then someone can help me get into his bed instead."
"Or you could just stay in your own bed and hold his hand across the gap,," Rhodey suggested, shaking his head as he sat down on the end of Tony's bed.
Tony ate a spoonful of ice-cream to save him from answering. He smiled at Natasha. It was pistachio. Tony's favourite.
…
Bucky's coming around was erratic. His eyelids were the first thing to move, and as soon as they noticed it, Steve talked softly into his ear, assuring him he was safe. Tony watched on with wide, hopeful eyes as slowly, Bucky came around.
"Tony," was Bucky's first word, and his hand shifted on the bed, as though he was looking for him.
"M'here, Buck," Tony said, loud enough for his boyfriend to hear. "I'm okay."
It took a while for Bucky to be able to move enough to look at Tony, and Tony watched as he catalogued every visible injury, before he frowned. "Why?"
"You weren't the only one who took a beating, Buck. You're going to be okay though," Tony assured him. "You've been in a coma while you've been healing, but the brain scans have been getting stronger, and the last one was almost completely normal. Now you're awake, you—"
"No," Bucky said, voice getting stronger. "Why are you in a bed?"
Tony chuckled. "I just told you that you weren't the only one to take a beating, cupcake."
"What's wrong with you?"
"I'm—"
"Fractured ribs, and there was some internal bleeding," Steve interrupted, shaking his head at Tony. "He's going to be okay, so long as we can keep him resting in bed for a while."
Tony scoffed at that. He was suddenly feeling much better, he was fine he was… okay, maybe not fine. He stopped trying to get off the bed as pain shot through him.
"Stay there, idiot," Bucky said, though there was a small smile playing on his lips now, his eyes getting a hint of their familiar sparkle.
"I just wanna be by your side," Tony admitted. Steve sighed, but walked around to Tony's bed. Taking the breaks off, he pushed the bed, and the machines, closer to Bucky's until all that separated them was the bars on the sides of the beds.
Bucky shifted until he was as close as he could be, and pressed a kiss to Tony's nose. "I won't leave you, Tones."
Tony reached through the bars to grip at Bucky's hand. "I know. I won't let you."
Written For:
Book Club: 3. Blood
Character Appreciation: 14. Crying
Film Festival: 17. Separate
Games Corner: Orange: Bow Street: Coffee
Lyric Alley: 12. I just wanna be by your side
Showtime: 4. Pure
Trope Of The Month: 9. Glaring
TV Spree: 5. Protect
Sophie's Shelf: 23. "I'm lucky that I left there alive."
Liza Loves: 21. Owlin: Write about someone awake during the night
Amber's Anime: 9. Red
Elizabeth's Empire: 2. Hopeless
Ari's AU Armoury: 7. Gold
Snail Mail: 18. Lying
Snakes Nest: Dinosaur: 10. Yoshi: Flutter
Lions Den: 7. Iron Man 3: Write about someone with anxiety
Pucker Up: Percy Weasley: 1. Suspicious
Treat Yourself: Bubbles: Hurt/Comfort
After the Midnight Kiss: 1. Sparkle
Puzzle Club: Puzzle 5: Anxious
Chocolate Frog Card: Maladora Grimm: Mirror
Days of the Year: 19. Feast of Fabulous Wild Men Day: Write about your favourite male character.
National Bird Day: 9. Long Tailed Tit: No characters under 17
Play God Day: 29. Erratic
Appreciate A Dragon Day: 6. Falkor: (word) Optimistic
Colours: 11. Gunmetal
Crystals and Gemstones: 1. Blue Banded Agate: Throat
Alphabetti: I: Ice-cream
NeonFae's Nibbles: Classic Scones: Cotton / "How bad is it this time?"
365: 55. Succumb
Musical Yearly: 12. 70's: You See The Trouble With Me: Everything I do is wrong, never right.
Insane: 4. Crying