Chapter Four:
The grass is fluttering, swaying softly beneath his bare feet as he moves back and forth as if standing on the deck of a ship. The motion is soothing, but irritates his bare feet as he stands still. The ocean is oscillating to and fro in the distance; waving softly as it gently kisses the shore. The sound isn't loud, but it is enough to draw his attention to it. It is calm. It is peaceful, all he has to do is breathe.
In and out; the quiet exhale as he stands, continuous, calm, nothing else to do but breathe.
It is so quiet here, and he does not understand why it bothers him so.
—Quiet, their voices swallowed up by the vast nothingness that is here. He can scream and scream but it doesn't do anything but echo in his head. There is no sound among the stars there is nothing but cold and the air that refuses to enter his lungs and his fingers gripped tightly around his counterparts wrist in an effort for—
Something is nagging, it is pulsing at his conscious attempting to draw his attention, but he does not want it. He is safe in his ignorance; he does not understand why he knows this well. He just wants to sit here and breathe.
Breathe and breathe and breathe .
He is confused.
He is very confused.
Ignorance is bliss.
He does not know how long he has been standing here, but his muscles are beginning to ache in a way that only a long hard spar can offer, and his vision is blurring. The sun has long since set in the horizon leaving nothing but the stars to light in its leave. It is not cold, but he wishes he had a cloak to cover his arms.
— Cold. Cold. Cold. It is the only thing he processes properly is that it is cold and there is nothing but stars above them. He is a fool. That was a mistake. That was a mistake.He did not think he wouldn't be able to—his brother. Where is—
He turns his head slightly, peeling it with effort away from the horizon as he sees movement in the corner of his eye. A figure is standing next to the edge, tall, thin, dark hair is pouring over his shoulders and he (the figure) is as familiar to him as his own breath. He shifts forward on his aching feet, staggering until he stands side-by-side with the young man.
"Loki." He breathes, staring at his younger brother with confusion. How long as he been here? Has he simply been ignoring his sibling this entire time? He has been here for many days now, he knows that; he doesn't understand why Loki is here now and not before. He's been standing for days, Loki should have been here before.
Loki does not look at him, and worry nags at him suddenly. " Loki." He presses. Something is wrong with his voice; it's a bare whisper as if something has wrapped around his throat and left him to wave his arms and squall for communication. It is strange, but with his sudden exhaustion he can't bring himself to care too much. He lifts an aching arm out to grasp his younger brother's shoulder and Loki turns to look at him, their eyes locking for a moment and—
— Loki is pressing his hand against his face, green eyes wild and figure blurred through his messy vision. His eye is pulsing and his blood is all over Loki's fingers, his younger brother's calm baritone replaced by high pitched panicked words he can't make sense of—
— Loki frowns, tilting his head a little, but doesn't say anything for a long while. "You are sleeping." He finally notes, his voice tired.
He blinks in confusion. No. He is standing on the edge of this cliff side and admiring the view because—
Because—
Because...
He doesn't know.
He doesn't know why he's here, he doesn't know why Loki's here, or how they got here or why they're supposed to be doing.
"I'm—" He frowns, attempting to make sense of the information.
" Mr. Stark? Why is there a snake on Mr. Terence's bed?"
Loki turns to look at him fully, but it isn't the face of his younger brother that turns to meet him. Instead, the tall being is frowning and his stomach lurches to his throat in horror. No. Not here. Not now. He can't—
He can't do this right now.
He hasn't ever been able to.
Loki.
Where is Loki? He's going to hurt him again because he didn't do whatever it was that Thanos asked or—he can't even remember what it was. He can't let him hurt his brother.
Not again.
Thanos. What is he— why is Thanos— he was standing on the edge of the grass on the hill! Yes! The hill! His gaze whips to the left to stare out at the sea, but his ocean is gone and replaced instead by the walls of the Sanctuary.
No.
"Oh, my son," Thanos sighs, shifting towards him. He wants to scramble back, but horror has grasped his feet and refuses to do anything else but leave him rooted and a foul taste in his mouth. Thanos pulls out a dagger from his belt and stops when the Titan and him are no more than a few feet apart. His mouth opens once, twice, his tongue shifting, but all he can make is a weak clicking noise of protest to the Titan.
Thanos's large hand lifts to cradle his face for a moment, almost as if replacing an apology before the Titan's eyes harden and he swipes the dagger harshly and staggering pain shoots through his face. Pain. Pain swirls through his face, across his entire being he can't— he can't— his hands slam against the bloody socket as he crumples to his knees a cry of agony slipping through his lips.
He can't—
That was his—
"Perhaps this will give you motivation to look harder next time."
Blood.
There's blood.
Blood and blood and blood. All over his hands and dripping down his face like it dripped across Loki's back after—
His breath is escaping him raggedly, but he can't get enough air into his lungs.
His eye is gone. His entire eye is gone.
No air, his lungs are as useless as he is. All he had to do was find the stupid Infinity Stone but he couldn't even do that and now—
" Ow! It just bloody bit me!"
" Augh! Peter! Get your sorry butt in here!"
' Wake.'
Thor's eyes rip open and he tumbles into the realm of consciousness violently.
000o000
"I'm going to kill them." Bucky decides phlegmatically, slamming the book in his hands closed and leaning forward on the couch to throw it onto the coffee table. Tony's copy (that he borrowed/stole) of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire skids to the edge and remains at the end, tittering to tipping, but stops. Sam, across from him looks up from his phone to raise an eyebrow and releases a sigh flicking the device off, seeming more irritated than actually worried.
" All of them?"
"Yep." Bucky confirms and rises to his feet, looking around the room for a weapon to begin his murders. When none sharp enough to be lazy about this arise in the sitting/living area, Bucky turns to stalk towards the kitchen adjoined to it. He doesn't actually have any plans for committing a homicide, but it's something else to do beyond rip apart the book he can't focus on with worry.
What possessed the kid to decide that kidnapping was a good idea? Better yet, why did Peter have to kidnap perhaps the one group of men with a maybe-deadly virus? This is ridiculous. When he sees Tony's kid again, he's going to hit him over the head. With a frying pan-no, a broom so Peter can sweep all further bad ideas from his mind. Yes, the broom will work excellently.
Great, with that settled, now all he needs to do is find a knife.
Bucky rips open the kitchen's cupboard and stares at the chef's knives for a long moment, contemplating. He hears Sam groan behind him before his teammate drags himself to his feet and comes to a halt behind him as Bucky pulls out all of the large weapons he can see and hold in one armful and turns setting them down on the counter, congiting.
This was not exactly how he wanted yesterday to start, or today, but so far there have been no positive updates via Jarvis and he and Sam have been explicitly banned from the quarantined area. Quarantined. Who's bloody idea was it to—this is fine. He is not worried. Nope, that is why he is not planning out their murders at their stupidity and stopping himself from grabbing the nearest object and giving it a good throttle until he shakes out all his anxiety. Bucky isn't a stranger to stressful situations or even hard ones, but there somehow easier to deal with when it isn't anyone else but him.
This is the first time it's been illness that has kept them on lock down and it makes the knot of anxiety in his stomach twist every time his thoughts brush over it. He can't fight a plague, all he can do is remain in the upper levels of Avengers Tower and attempt not to self combust from worry. It's been exactly thirty-six hours since Bucky was awoken to Jarvis telling him that Tony and Natasha had accidentally brought back maybe contagious patients into Stark Medical and that he was prohibited from seeing them until they could determine if it is what they think it is.
So far (according to Jarvis's updates and any time he asks), they haven't been able to isolate anything, but they're still wary.
Which is just amazing.
Bucky resists the urge to shove the knives to the side and smash his head against the counter top instead. What is he doing? He barely slept last night from the knot wrapped around his throat, he's exhausted and is about as close to calming down as the sun rising as purple tomorrow.
Bucky sighs and opens his eyes he can't recall closing and shoves the knives to the side leaning against the counter top.
Sam hums conversationally and sits down on a stool across from him. "Think we could get them from the vents?"
Bucky shrugs. He could, with more effort than he feels like offering. "Probably."
"Good." Sam declares, "Clint's up there all the time; can't be that hard, right?"
Bucky glances up at his teammate, "I'm not serious." He states tonelessly.
Sam nods, "I assumed so." He reassures.
Great. Good. Excellent. Killer diller.
Same releases a sigh, "Look, I'm just as worried as you, but maybe murder isn't the way to solve all of our problems." Sam's tone is gentle, but teasing and Bucky lifts and irritated eyebrow towards the man.
"Yeah." He agrees, dryly. Did Sam think he was serious?
"I hate to interrupt this exchange," Jarvis's smooth baritone interrupts and both Bucky and Sam's gaze flickers towards the AI's camera. "But Mr. Parker entered the Tower and I have sent him up to this level, he was quite insistent."
He and Sam scramble.
"You what?" Sam demands, "Tony said he and May were waiting this out at their apartment, what the heck is he doing here! ?"
"I am unaware, Mr. Wilson." Jarvis answers, calmly. "He refuses to answer my queries."
Yeah, just like Tony. They really are so alike even if it isn't by blood. Bucky's teeth grind together and he resists the urge to let out a cuss as the elevator doors open nearly a minute later and the teenager slips onto the floor.
His face is washed out and he looks a little tired, but not like he's about to pass out from whatever plague it is he may have caught. Peter's tugging at the edges of his sleeves and comes to a halt as he sees them, looking for every right like a deer caught in headlights. His limbs slowly shift from their frozen positions and he clenches his fingers.
"Oh." He breathes, brown eyes flickering back and forth between them. He lifts his hand for a small, awkward wave, "Hi, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Falcon-Sir."
Bucky swears this kid at some point is going to self implode when he can't find the proper way to politely address someone. He and Sam remain quiet, staring the teenager down with cryptic silence. He better hope he has a good reason for this.
Peter squirms under their stare and wrings his hands. He lasts a sum total of about a minute in the silence before he breaks, and the words coming spilling out like water down a windowsill: "Look, I know that I'm supposed to be at the apartment, but I'm going insane. I snuck out... I mean, I did text May after I left but—I don't know, I needed to leave and I want to know how Terence and Luke are doing because Tony hasn't told me anything and I think Happy is going through this phase or something with his texts, because he isn't answering either. I thought that maybe they'd died and I at least wanted to know if—if that had happened, but no one was telling me anything, so I just kind of got here. Um. Yeah."
He and Bucky remain quiet.
So not only did he show up unexpectedly he did so without telling his guardian.
Bucky mentally face palms. Oh, gosh, this reminds him so much of Steve when they were younger before the serum and Steve refused to be put on bed rest because " I was bored", and would show up at Bucky's apartment at random before his mother's death.
Peter stares at both of them. "Please say something." He begs.
Sam releases a breath and his lips twitch as he attempts to cover a smile, "Calm down, Squirt, we're not defenestrating anyone today." Peter's shoulders relax slightly.
"Maybe." Bucky half heatedly jabs. Sam gives him a look before returning his gaze to the teen.
"Peter, I would like to remind you that we pick cats off the streets; not homeless guys." Sam states and Peter's expression twists to something uncomfortable, "But nonetheless, I have been looking for an excuse to drop into Stark Medical and whack some sense into the idiots. If this is some sort of illness, you're going to handle it better so I will just remain up here and make dinner if any of you survive long enough for that." Sam states, jabbing a finger in Bucky's direction before waving it towards Peter's.
Bucky bites on his tongue to hold back a comment about how Steve is currently in quarantine even with the serum and Bucky's isn't as adequate is the Super Soldier's. Instead, he releases a quiet breath and moves away from the counter and waves his hand for the 'come ' sign in ASL to Peter, walking towards the elevator.
Clint's been teaching him for the last couple of months with some assistance from Natasha, and it's been a little weird to learn a language because he wanted to, rather than it was forced upon him. Bucky steps into the elevator and Peter hesitantly scampers in next to him. Jarvis closes the doors slowly, clearly unhappy with their decision. The elevator lurches before beginning to move towards Stark Medical.
Peter plays with the edge of his shirt noiselessly as they descend and Bucky picks at the edge of a metal slate on his left arm until the doors open once more and both of them exit the small room with obvious relief. Bucky grits his teeth together and tosses some stray pieces of stray hair from his eyes. Peter isn't comfortable in his presence and Bucky doesn't blame him for it.
They take several steps down the white-walled hallway in the direction where he can pick out the sound of voices. Peter perks up slightly at it and Bucky has to remind himself that the teenager is enhanced and can hear just as well (if not better) than he can to bite back his surprise.
"What did you do?" Steve's voice is exasperated as they draw closer and some of the knot of worry twisted in Bucky's stomach releases at it. Steve doesn't sound drastically ill. Annoyed, yes, but not like he's about to lean over on his deathbed and not move further.
Peter's eyebrows lift with interest beside him at the argument. As much as their sincere bickering usually bothers him, all this does is loosen the knot further. If they're arguing, they aren't dying.
There's a moment of hesitation then a pained grunt before Tony replies wearily: "Mess with the thing."
"Did I explicitly tell you not to?" Steve demands, flustered.
"Yes." Tony answers, patiently.
" And?"
"...Oops?"
There's slight thwauk and Tony lets out a loud yelp, " Hey! I need that arm!" He shouts in indignation as they finally reach the lab. Bucky stops in surprise, his eyebrows lifting as they come to the doorway. Actually, scratch that, they come to what was the lab.
There's a large blast radius spanning from about the center where a staff is on the ground innocently glowing as if it had nothing to do with this. The lab itself is a disaster; soot and ash cover a large portion of it, and equipment is spilling across the floor like a carpet of destruction. Bucky's fairly certain had this been Bruce and Tony's normal lab that they would both be to tears in devastation, but this is the medical one and neither cares for it much.
Tony is sitting on one of the stools that managed to survive the blast, Steve kneeling in front of him taping a bandage over a large cut along Tony's arm, his face concentrated. Bruce is a few feet away sitting on one of the two tables, Natasha and Clint hovering around him like concerned mothers. Any other time the sight would have been amusing, but all Bucky can conjure properly seeing it currently is a loud swear.
"What did you two do?" He demands, storming into the medical space to begin fretting over his teammates. Bruce has a few long cuts on his face and looks all around unhappy, but is otherwise okay. He doesn't know who took the brunt of the blast, or even what happened exactly, but it doesn't stop the growing worry. They traded out a plague for an explosion? Were they attacked? If that is the case, why didn't Jarvis say anything?
Steve scrambles to his feet as Bucky enters and whirls, surprise evident on his face, "Buck," He addresses, startled, clearly, before it's replaced with frustration, "You shouldn't be in here; we're on lock down."
Noted and contravened. Bucky hums absentmindedly, ignoring him, and turns to Natasha, who he knows will give him the most blunt answer. He hasn't seen Tony or Natasha since they left for their undercover work six days ago, but nothing appears to have gone drastically terribly. Natasha's leg is wrapped, and Tony looks a little tired, still, but otherwise alright. She shouldn't be standing with her wound, but she is, and probably won't be for much longer. He digs the fingernails of his right hand into his palm for a moment before asking the redhead: "Anything severe?"
"Beyond my pride?" Tony questions from across the room and Bucky huffs quietly, "Nope; Bruce managed to tip a table."
Oh, good. Bucky turns and—after a sweep with his gaze across the room—concludes that the table Bruce is currently perched on is likely the furniture that was tipped, judging from the burn. He folds his arms across his chest, "What happened?"
"Oh my gosh!" Peter exclaims and Bucky nearly jumps, having forgotten that the teenager was present before turning to look at him. He's standing in the doorway to the room, brown eyes wide. Tony, Bruce and Clint all yelp slightly turning and Natasha and Steve merely gyrate with their surprise.
Peter's hand falls away from his mouth and he makes eye contact with Tony for a second, tone horrified: "It was a bomb."
What?
What was a bomb? They were playing with bombs in a medical lab? Idiots. Tony's gaze whips from the teenager to him in a single movement, a quiet anger dancing in his eyes. "You let the kid into a quarantined area? Seriously?"
It wasn't his idea. Bucky bristles quietly, but keeps his temper from exploding outwards and gestures vaguely towards the teen, "He's already infected." He points out.
"You're not." Steve argues. Yeah, he knows. Does it matter? He and Sam are bound to get sick anyway.
"And?" Bucky challenges.
"For the love of—you seriously thought you could bring my kid into a quarantined area and—" Tony starts, sitting up slightly with frustration. Bucky resists the very strong urge to back down and simply let Tony vent his frustration out until he's satisfied. It was easier with Hydra to let them do that then defend himself.
"Mr. Stark!" Peter exclaims, cutting the multi-billionaire off and all of them turn towards the spider expectantly. Peter's face is pale and he looks somehow...stretched, " Was the glowy-staff-thing a bomb?"
"Glowy-staff-thing"? Really? Bucky flicks his gaze towards the weapon once more, studying closer. That is what set off the explosion powerful enough to do all of this? It looks fairly harmless laying lax amongst the piles of scrap, glowing softly. The longer Bucky stares, however the more unsettled he feels. There's something...off about it, and it makes him wary.
Tony's expression softens and Bruce snorts quietly, "Mights've well have been." He murmurs under his breath, letting his head flop onto his hands.
"No, Kid, it isn't a bomb." He reassures.
Peter gestures vaguely towards the room, "Then what did all that?"
Tony sighs, rubbing at his temples. "The staff."
Oh.
Great.
"You said it wasn't a bomb!" Peter's voice is pitching impressively high. Tony raises to his feet with a slight grimace and crosses the room to rest his hands on the teenagers shoulders. Peter looks up towards the multi-billionaire's face at the action, brown eyes wide.
"It wasn't." Tony assures.
"But—"
"Underoos."
Peter hesitates, and Bucky bites his tongue to keep quiet. Peter sighs quietly and runs a hand through his hair as Tony pulls back, "What did you do to it?" Peter questions.
Tony and Bruce share a look from across the room and Bucky quietly lifts an eyebrow to reaffirm the need for a answer. "We...poked it." Bruce states finally.
"With one of Tasha's batons." Clint appends with disbelief. "That's not poking so much as electrocuting."
What?
"Fine," Tony's eyes roll up towards the ceiling, "we electrocuted the staff and it didn't like that so much, so it exploded in our faces."
Peter smacks his forehead, and Bucky bites back a small smile at the reaction. Tony looks mildly offended at the gesture, "What?" He demands, folding his arms across his chest.
Peter groans, "I just—I told you not to touch it."
Tony is quiet for a moment, "Okay, technically ' we' didn't, Natasha's baton did and—"
" Mr. Stark." Peter moans looking up at the multi-billionaire, Tony snaps his jaw shut from the prodding (a rare feet) and Peter glances up at him, releasing a long breath. "I just came here to see Terence and Luke, are they okay?"
Bruce slides from off the table, waving Natasha and Clint's hands away as they attempt to support him when he sways slightly. "I haven't checked on them in a few hours, you can come with me." He offers.
Peter brightens at the statement. "Okay."
"This is still a quarantined area." Tony points out.
"He's already infected." Bruce says and moves past Peter to slide into the hallway. Bucky moves after them curiously and Tony turns to the other occupants.
"Start cleaning this up," he commands, pauses, then adds: "please."
They reach the end of the medical, passing a room that looks like it's recently been in use, but is empty before stopping at the one beside it. Bruce wipes some of the soot from off of his face with the back of his lab coat sleeve before grabbing the handle's door and pulling it open.
"Terence, from what I can tell, is just carrying the virus, Luke's blood is equally as messy and it looks like Terence's illness caught hypothermia. I've been keeping them separated so they don't feed off of each other, but so far neither one has woken." Bruce explains, moving to wash his hands with the sink before grabbing a clipboard from off of the desk and moving to scribble something down on it.
Tony walks up beside him, "Luke's meds were running out, we need to refill them." He states.
Bruce nods, "I'll go find some when we're done here." He distractedly assures.
"Mr. Stark?" The question is lined with confusion and both he, Bruce, and Tony turn to look at the teenager expectantly. Peter hasn't shifted from the doorway, still; his face suddenly colorless. Peter doesn't meet their gaze, his eyes are fashioned to Terence's bed eyes wide and full of surprise. What? What is the problem? Bruce starts to slide forward as Tony queries, "Yeah, Kid?"
Peter lifts a finger out towards the bed, "Why is there a snake on Mr. Terence's bed?"
Why is there a...
A what? There are no snakes in a hospital, there is no way that there could be a snake in here. Peter must be confused or—Bucky's thoughts come to a halt as he lifts his gaze up to stare at the end of Terence's bed.
Oh.
Oh, well, fantastic.
Curled up in a small ball at the end is indeed a deep green snake. Its head isn't turned towards them, but it looks perfectly at peace leaning against Terence's right calf. Bruce's clipboard slips from his hands and lands on the desk with a loud clatter.
Silence grasps them for a long moment, and all Bucky can do is breathe loudly.
A snake. Here. Now.
"How?" Bruce demands, his voice suddenly much quieter in an effort not to disturb the reptile. Yeah, Bucky is wondering the same question himself. They've been in quarantine, there is almost no where the snake could have come from except someone's ear.
Tony shakes his head, tone equally soft: "I don't know; we need to get it out of here."
"How?" Peter hisses, "I don't know how to pick up a snake—" Bucky doesn't either, he was raised in a city "—don't they bite?"
And there's that.
Tony's gaze flits across the room and settles on a large empty box that he moves towards, "They do." He confirms, seeming nonchalant, "Unless someone has a better idea, I vote we just pick it up and put it in here. We'll transfer it from the box to outside. I can't exactly call animal control at the moment."
Plague of Unknown Doom takes yet another victim. Whoo. Tony grasps the box in both hands and turns to look at Bucky, "You and Bruce have been volunteered for grabbing, congrats, Underoos, go wait out in the hall."
"But, Mr. Stark—" Peter starts, stopping instantaneously as all of them give the teenager a hard look and he bites his tongue, complaint and moves to exit the room.
Snake-gathering. This is not something he expected to do today, tomorrow, or really any time in his life. How the heck did this snake get in here, anyway? Magic?
He and Bruce move forward towards Terence's bed, both of them wary. Tony shifts, lifting the box prepared for their package.
Snake bites aren't deadly, right? He's pretty sure they are. Maybe not all of them, though. Hopefully this isn't one of the more poisonous ones if they do get bit.
The closer they get the more ragged the snake looks up close. It's a deep green/gray color, with ugly scarring across it's back. Bucky doesn't want to know what happened to the creature to cause that. The breathing is deep and rhythmic as it leans against Terence's feet, curled like a tired cat. In a way, it's almost cute.
But they aren't here to admire it.
" One," Bruce mouths towards him, Bucky lifts his hands in preparation, attempting to calm his fraying nerves, " two, three."
Bucky grasps the end of the snake as Bruce lifts the front and the animal balances between them. There is about two seconds where everything is going according to plan before it promptly fails.
The snake's jerk into focus, the head whipping up a second later. There is a breath of stillness before it begins to squirm in their grip, the slightly cool dry scales shifting under his skin uncomfortably. This is not going to work, Bucky realizes, they aren't going to get this thing to Tony without the snake escaping them. Already, the scales are sliding away from his grasp and unless he tightens it to the point of hurting, he can't keep a firm grip.
The snake releases a loud hiss, but neither Bruce nor Bucky relent their hold.
Bruce adjusts his grip on the reptile before the snake lashes out violently and, almost to quick for Bucky to fully see, sinks its teeth deeply into Bruce's right hand.
" Augh!" Bruce yells and drops his half of the snake hand twitching. Bucky scrambles to grip the light weight to keep it from slipping away from him. Bruce grabs the neck of the creature and rips it forcefully from his hand tossing it and slams a hand over his wound which is pulsing green around the bite mark.
Hulk.
Great.
"Whoa; easy there Big Guy." Tony has suddenly appeared beside them and is gripping at Bruce's shoulder in an attempt to calm him, box forgotten.
"The bloody thing bit me!" Bruce's voice is rising and Bucky hears the edge of the Hulk present in it, the deeper edged roar and Bucky subconsciously takes a step back his grip tightening on the reptile in his hands. The thing is squirming like it's about to be murdered and latches it's teeth against Bucky's left arm in an attempt to dislodge itself from him, but the fangs merely clang against the metal softly.
Well, one of the benefits of a metal arm, he supposes.
The snake's head twists to look back at him, slitted green eyes wide before a weird sort of buzzing feeling shoots up through his arm like being slightly electrocuted. A piercing headache ripples through his skull. The reptile slips through his fingers in surprise at the precipitating pain and he releases a cry at it, grabbing at his hair and tugging in an attempt to stop focus on anything else but the pulse.
Bucky staggers back, but he can't feel his feet anymore
He can't feel anything.
He's drifting.
No, that's not right.
His hand is wrapping around a woman's throat and squeezing, but the Soldier doesn't care. Her breath is gasping out in wheezes and—
He's standing over the body of the squirming redhead, seeing if his target was killed. The Soldier cares naught for the gasping woman he shot the man through, because his mission is complete—
His back is pulsing, aching, and his arm, oh gosh, his arm is—
" Sargent Barnes—"
" Bucky?"
" —is Bucky?"
He's tugging the trigger back and—
He throws the bomb watching it roll under the car and watches with detachment as the SUV flips over its nose and lands top down skidding several feet, the passenger likely dead—
His head is aching and a cry of pain slips through his lips, but he knows that it doesn't matter because no matter how long and hard he screams they aren't going to stop—
" How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."
" Your work has been a gift for mankind."
He's pouring through the water searching desperately for the body that hit before him. Steve where is Steve!? Where is the target! He's running out of air, but he needs to find the—
"— cky—!"
"Bucky!"
"Bucky!"
" James Buchanan Barnes, come on you bloody idiot!"
Bucky lurches into consciousness again, tumbling forward with a gasp of breath lurching through his lungs. His lurch is halted as Tony's hand on his shoulder stops him from collapsing forward on his face. The light picks at his eyes uncomfortably and the smell of disinfectant hospitals are so fond of digs into his nose sharply.
What just happened?
He hadn't been anywhere near thinking about that and—oh, gosh, he's going to be sick. There's a reason most of those are buried. Bucky exhales sharply several times and he feels Tony's hand tighten on his shoulder for a moment (almost subconsciously) before pulling out of his sight line and Bucky's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.
How long was he in those memories?
It barely felt like a few seconds.
It must have been minutes.
Peter is standing in the room, hands lifted up to reveal his lack of weapons and his back is to Bucky. Bruce is missing at the moment, and Tony is present in front of him, but what is most prominent, however, is Terence.
When Bucky had entered the room, Terence had been laying limply on the bed, breathing with the rhythm of the oxygen mask and not looking any closer to waking up in the next few hours than Clint (who believes them to be an abomination) watching all of the Harry Potter movies. He was still, lifeless and looked a little above a still corpse.
Now?
Terence is standing in the corner of the room furthest away from them, his blue eye opened, wide, and terrified. He's still pale, and his long blond hair is falling out of the ponytail it's strapped back in, hanging around his face messily. The midnight hairdresser, Ralph, was apparently feeling like spicing things up with Terence.
Whatever adrenaline pulled the man from the bed does not appear to be endless. He's rocking on his feet, dizzy, obviously, but gripping the snake close to him in his arms, like if he doesn't the wretched thing is going to simply fall to pieces at their feet.
What is he doing? Doesn't he know that snakes are dangerous? It literally just bit Bruce!
Bucky attempts to sit up (when did he fall onto his back?), but his stomach lurches at the screaming echoing in his head. He barely has time to grab the rubbish bin (thankfully close to where he passed out) before promptly releasing everything he's eaten in the last day into it. He doesn't understand this! What did he do to trigger this?
When Bucky has graduated from throwing up to dry heaves, he sits back and sees Tony give a grimace of disgust in his direction. Terence's one-eyed gaze keeps flickering back and forth across them, but it lingers on Bucky for a moment longer, as if confused. The snake is watching him as well, green eyes unblinking and Bucky would be lying if he said the stare didn't unsettle him.
What are they waiting for?
Where did Bruce go?
What happened to him?
Tony offers his hand and Bucky takes it allowing the multi-billionaire to pull him to his feet. Terence's posture shifts to defensive as this happens and Peter lifts his hands up further.
"We're unarmed, remember?" Peter reminds. Bucky doesn't, he has no idea when Peter said that for the first time— what happened? "You're safe here." Peter soothes.
Terence doesn't look any calmer than before, but the snake's head raises towards Peter like it can understand him and does look reassured. What the—? He has no idea what is going on and this aggravates and panics him. It's something that he worked until his bones ached for: understanding the situation at any given moment without being told anything. The confusion he slept with for seventy years is not one he likes repeating.
He glances at Tony helplessly, but the multi-billionare's gaze is focused on Peter.
Bucky turns as the door to the room opens and Bruce steps into the space, looking slightly pained, but calm. He's pressing a thick wad of gauze against the hand that was bitten, but looks otherwise hale.
His gaze flits over Bucky for a second, obvious relief in his eyes before he comes to a halt next to Peter, "Terence, I need you to take in a few deep breaths, alright?" His tone is gentle, "I checked your brother's room like you said and it's empty, we won't try and take the snake again, we promise; we're going to leave you and your brother alone."
Wait.
What?
The way Bruce is phrasing this makes it seem like Terence's brother is the snake, but that makes no sense whatsoever because—it just doesn't. Luke was a person, to his understanding, why the heck would he be a snake?
"Terence." Bruce presses when the blond refuses to do more than inhale the little wheezes he's attempting to pass for breaths.
Terence's gaze lifts towards him, "I... I—" His voice is deeper than Bucky was expecting and laced with some sort of accent he can't place. It has the tinges of British, but Bucky wouldn't label it being from the country.
"Calm, remember?" Bruce encourages. Great idea; how is Bruce so calm?
Bruce takes a small step towards the man and the snake, but Terence's grip on the reptile tightens to an almost painful degree a second later, so Bruce backs down. Bruce plays with his lip between his teeth for a moment before shoving his glasses up his nose with the back of his hand. "I apologize, you probably have no idea who we are. I am Bruce Banner, these are my teammates, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and Peter Parker." Bruce gestures at the given person when he speaks and Terence's gaze flit over them.
He remains quiet for a long moment, "I do not understand." He whispers quietly, his voice is hoarse. When was the last time he drank water?
"Understand what?" Tony prods.
"Why…" he swallows almost what looks painfully "why are you calling me 'Terence'?" Terence asks. Bucky pauses and they all look towards Peter. That's what Peter said their names were, are they not?
Peter looks surprised, "Your brother…" his brown eyes linger on the snake, "he talked to me for a few minutes, he said that your name was Terence and he was Luke. Is that wrong?"
Terence's jaw clicks with sudden understanding and he pauses. For too long. He's debating whether or not to lie. Apparently realizing he's in to deep now he exhales quietly, "Yes, it is. I am Thor, of Asgard, and this," he lifts the snake slightly, but not enough to jostle or remove it from his protective embrace, "is my younger brother, Loki."
Asgard.
Asgard!?
Wait. Thor and Loki... as in... Odin's children?
Oh.
Well, glittering rainbows and unicorns—this is great. Swell.
How the heck are they supposed to tell them?
Almost three and a half years ago now, when Malekith the Destroyer with his army of Dark Elves, Fury had pulled the Avengers together to stop the assault, but they were failing. Badley. Malekith's glowing-looks-like-crystalized-jello-weapon was beyond what they were prepared to deal with, and though Tony had sort of come up with a way to contain it, they were still being overrun. That is when Asgard made an appearance.
The battle had been led by King Odin himself, with Queen Frigga at his side. During the process of it, Frigga had asked Fury if he'd seen anyone fitting Thor and Loki's descriptions, but less...looking near death—at least, that's what Bucky's read. He wasn't present; he didn't even learn of it until after he was sent to assassinate Steve.
In the aftermath of the bloody battle, Odin had given Tony possession of the object he called the "Aether" that Malekith used to attack and Bucky was sent to retrieve it and failed. That's when Steve grew suspicions and brought it to Fury who's attempted assassination only led to Steve becoming his next target.
Frigga mentioned that their children were lost to herself and her husband, beyond their reach, but now so is Asgard; they haven't gotten word from Lady Sif Vridottier (the unofficial diplomat between Asgard and Earth) in months. Dr. Jane Foster has said that things have been quiet on her end as well; Asgard has simply vanished. Of all the luck—Peter managed to kidnap not only homeless men with a dangerous weapon, but the lost princes of Asgard.
Well.
Alright.
All of this information crosses across his mind in under four seconds. He and Tony share a glance as Bruce snaps his jaw shut with surprise. Silence swallows them for a second.
"Um," Bruce swallows audibly, "right."
Ter— Thor's eyes narrow slightly and a hitched breath escapes him, "Do you not believe me?"
"What? No. I do." Bruce sounds surprised, and he's quiet a moment, "How about you sit down?" He suggests.
Thor doesn't shift.
Bruce's releases an audible breath and Peter's gaze flickers to the scientist for a second before he takes a step towards the siblings—hard to think of it like this, when one of them is a snake- and though Thor's gaze flicks to him, he doesn't coil further.
Peter, gaining confidence, shifts forward again. Tony's breath hitches slightly next to him, but none of them make any move to stop the teen. When Peter's about three feet from Thor and the snake, he comes to a halt. "Hey, Mr. Thor," he greets, "I don't know if you remember, but I found you, we're friends...sort of."
Thor doesn't have any spark of recognition.
The snake, however, lifts his head in Peter's direction and it glances back towards Thor, making a slight clicking noise. Thor's expression furrows and he glances at Peter again as if seeing him in a new light and then stares at Loki. The animal and the Asgardian appear to have simply mastered telepathy because the snake's eyes narrow and Thor's expression grows frustrated the longer the stare lasts.
Peter waits patiently for about a minute, "I promise we're not going to do anything. You're safe here, promise; will you sit down?" He coaxes. Thor lifts his gaze to the teen and glances warily towards the hospital bed before, amazingly, he begins to move towards it in a slight stagger, but doesn't lose hold on the animal. Peter watches them with concern.
Thor all but collapses onto the mattress, drags himself into a sitting position then releases Loki. The snake slithers into the covers next to his sibling, vanishing from his view and Bucky tries to swallow a wave of disgust at the sight, but Thor isn't looking at him. He's looking at Tony.
"How long are we to remain here?" His tone sounds wary.
Tony glances at Bruce who tugs the sleeves of his lab coat over his hands, "...It's hard to say," Bruce admits, "it could be a few more days or up to a week."
Thor nods, he looks calmer, but Bucky can still hear a slight hitch in his breath, and every so often he glances towards the spot Loki vanished to as if checking to make sure that the snake is still present. He hesitates for a second, then asks: "This is Earth, yes?"
"Yep." Peter confirms.
"How long…" Thor bites at his tongue, apparently deciding not to ask that question and switches: "Can any of you get in contact with Jane Foster? I am unfamiliar with the means of communication here. And, if not her, perhaps Darcy Lewis or Erik Selvig?"
Tony nods slowly, "Yeah, I'll try for Foster." He confirms, "In the meantime, I think you should lay down and not move for a while, you look worse than death." Which is unfortunately not an exaggeration. Thor is still pale, his hands are shaking slightly, and his breathing is labored. The bandages around his face are crooked now and not for the first time Bucky wishes he'd been present when he awoke so he understood what happened exactly.
Instead... that happened.
"Peter, Bucky, come," Tony waves a hand towards them, "Bruce needs to work, and they need some space." Tony moves to the doorway and Bucky's feet shift to follow him, but the multi-billionaire suddenly stops and looks back at Thor, "Is your sibling going to be...that for a while?"
Thor glances at the blankets. How Loki managed to hide among the white covers with his dark green, scarred, and frankly ugly scales is beyond him. "Probably." Thor confirms, looking up at them.
Tony nods, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Right; I'm going to pretend that isn't weird. Peter?"
Bucky looks at Peter as the teenager whips his head up and hurries to scramble after the two of them. As they reach the doorway, Peter turns to wave at the blond not exactly cheerily, but sincerely. "Bye, Mr. Thor, Mr. Loki!"
All that answers him is silence.
Author's Note: *Slowly peels body off ground wincing and shoots a pitiful look in the direction of the truck that just ran over me*: a summary of the last month or so for me. I am so sorry that this chapter was late! I had every intention of posting it last week, but things were getting crazy and the chapter was about six pages long and not really connected at all, would have been an interesting read. XD
You're all amazing! Seriously! The comments and reviews I receive make my day! Thank you so much, I can't express how much it means to me. :)
I make no promises for when the next chapter will be posted; but I'm going to try and bring it to life as quickly as I can. Again, thank you thank you for your support!
Edited on October 8, 2018.