The first thing Bucky became aware of was an odd, intermittent, almost rumbly hiss.
Swish, swish, stop. Swish, swish, stop.
The second thing he became aware of was a dull throb in his skull and ribs, as well as a burning pain in his right leg. He groaned and shifted, which his ribs and head protested to, then slowly opened his eyes. This led to the third awareness, which was the fact that he was, apparently, moving.
Grunt. Swish, swish, stop. Mumbled swearing. Swish, swish , stop.
Bucky blinked and turned his head to the side. His vision was blurry, but he could still see the dirt and rocks that made up his surroundings slowly move by, in a pattern that seemed to coincide with the rumbling and swishing. Wait… was he… was he being dragged?
Just as he came to this realization, whatever he was being dragged on hit a bump, which jarred his leg and startled a groan out of him.
The swishing - and the movement - stopped. "...Bucky?"
Bucky groaned again, and twisted his head towards the source of the voice. "Tony?"
"Oh, thank fuck," the voice replied, and then the sweaty, dirty, worried face of Tony Stark swam into Bucky's vision. "I thought you were never going to wake up - are you okay? Are - you know what? Don't answer that, that's a stupid question, of course you aren't okay, otherwise you wouldn't be laying there. God, but you're conscious, so there's something, unless I'm hallucinating again, in which case please don't tell me because this is a lot nicer than wandering around in the dirt and wondering if the sun or the concussion will kill me first."
Bucky stared at him blearily. "Wha?"
Tony's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his lip trembled a little. "Here," he said, opening a canteen and carefully bringing it to Bucky's mouth. "Just a little sip, okay?"
Bucky nodded, wincing when the motion made his head hurt even worse, then moaned gratefully when the cool liquid hit his parched throat.
Tony had to all but pry the canteen away from him, but Bucky forgave him when he splashed some of the water on scrap of cloth and brushed it over Bucky's face.
"What's your name?" Tony asked, brow still furrowed in worry.
"B-bucky," Bucky groaned, lifting his right hand to rub at his eyes. "You're Tony, and last I checked, we were running for our lives from our kidnappers, who I think were very close to killing us. What happened?"
Tony sighed and sat back on his heels, his face relaxing in relief. "Well, we almost died," he said, smiling faintly. "The good news is, I don't think any actual dying happened, we escaped, and they don't seem to be following us."
Bucky squinted back at him. "What's the bad news?"
"We're trapped in the valley, we have no food, your leg is broken, and I don't know how we're going to climb out with you in that condition," Tony said, rocking back and forth on his heels listlessly.
"The… valley?" Bucky asked, the words thick and clumsy on his tongue. He tried to shift his weight, but the stiffness in his leg made it nearly impossible to get comfortable. He looked down at it, and noticed for the first time the clumsy splint Tony had made with a thick branch and what looked like strips of the bandit's tunic he'd been wearing.
"The valley we fell into," Tony said patiently, the worry returning to his expression. He leaned over and pressed his hand to Bucky's forehead. "Fuck, I can't tell if you're running a fever or if you're just warm - I've been trying to stay in the canyon's shadow, but -"
"How long have I been out?" Bucky interrupted, looking up towards the sky and noticing, with some degree of panic, that the sun looked as though it was close to setting.
It had barely been up when they'd escaped the cave.
Tony's face pinched. "A few hours," he hedged, taking the damp cloth and wiping at Bucky's brow again.
Bucky caught his wrist, his stomach flipping unpleasantly. "A few hours?"
Tony grimaced. "A few hours, most of the day…" He wrung his hands nervously, and gnawed on his lip. "Those idiots probably think we're dead, but I didn't figure staying in one spot was a good idea. I lost most of the rest of the armor in the fall, but I still had the back and breastplate, so I jury-rigged a sled with that and some of the wood from a few old wagons that had fallen down here, and started heading north. I don't know how far we've gotten - you're heavy, you know that? - but the cliffs aren't as steep as they were."
Bucky stared at him for second, trying to wrap his head around the words. "You - you've been dragging me. For most of the day," he said slowly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the sled.
The was a rustle of cloth as Tony moved again. "Uh, yes?" Tony replied, sounding befuddled. "Like I said, I didn't want to stay in one spot, and you're heavy, so carrying you was out, and -"
And it had apparently never even occurred to him to leave the injured, possibly dying man behind so he could get to safety.
Bucky wasn't really surprised, but he still didn't know whether to yell at him or hug him.
Eyes still closed, Bucky reached out until he had Tony's wrist again and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you," he said quietly, before cracking his eyes open.
Tony was still looking at him funny, as though worried Bucky's brain was addled - which it might have been - but smiled down reassuringly at him.
"You're welcome?" he said, though he obviously didn't know what Bucky was thanking him for.
He then picked the canteen up and offered it to Bucky again, but Bucky declined; he didn't know how much water they had, but if Tony had really been moving them for that long, then he needed it more than Bucky did.
Clearing his throat, Bucky moved to sit up again, pleased when this time was more successful than the last. "Though, not to criticize your plans or anything, why are we heading north? The kingdom is that way," Bucky pointed out, indicating the direction from which they'd come.
"Yes, but so are the bandits," Tony replied, opening the canteen and taking a sip. "I figured if we kept heading north, we'd eventually hit the coast, and then we could head west and get back that way. It's longer, but it has the distinct advantage of not being in the path of a gang of thugs that want to kill us."
Bucky wrinkled his nose. Well, when he put it like that…
"Technically, they only want to kill me. They just want to enslave you," Bucky remarked, laying back down. He noticed for the first time that there was something soft under his head, and caught a glimpse of the fabric of his cloak when he turned for a better look.
For some reason, the realization that Tony had been thoughtful enough to give Bucky a pillow while he'd been sweating and dragging him through the valley made something in Bucky's gut twist.
Tony gaped at him. Then he burst into laughter, which Bucky joined in on a second later.
"Oh, God, I'm glad you're alive," Tony gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "You have a certain way of putting things in perspective."
Bucky grinned lazily back at him. "I could say the same about you," he said quietly, noting the way Tony's hands were shaking. He didn't think Tony heard him over his own gasps.
It was another hour before Tony could be persuaded to stop for the night, and even then it was only because Bucky had threatened to roll off the sled if he didn't.
"I still think we could have gone farther," Tony grumbled sulkily once they had made camp, ripping Bucky's bandit tunic into more strips for some reason. "Are you sure this fire is a good idea? What if someone sees it?"
"It's not that big, and it's too cold at night to go without," Bucky replied, counting the amount of knives he had left. He'd lost his sword, and Tony said the crossbow had been destroyed in the fall, but most of the knives hidden in his cloak were still there. "We're far enough in, and I don't think anyone will notice."
Tony didn't say anything to that, but his grumpy silence was enough to gauge what he thought on the matter.
Bucky sighed. "We need rest, Tony, or we'll drop dead of exhaustion before we hit the coast."
Or, well, Tony would. Bucky would probably be fine, but if Tony thought otherwise he was more likely to take care of himself.
Tony stopped what he was doing and looked down, shoulders hunched. "We need to figure out a way to climb out of the valley," he said slowly, brow pinched thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "The bottom here isn't so bad, but even at the least steep point, there's no way I can pull you up by myself."
Bucky shrugged. "I'll probably be healed enough to climb by the time we get there," he said, sliding his favorite knife back into its sheath.
Tony got quiet again, and when Bucky looked up, it was to find him staring at him with the same expression he'd worn earlier when he'd been concerned for fevers.
"Bucky, your leg is broken," Tony said carefully, as though trying to gently break the news to him.
Bucky rolled his eyes. "I know. I can feel it, remember?" He sat up and patted the top of his knee for emphasis. "If I remember the distance correctly, though, it shouldn't take but a few more days to get to the end of the canyon, right?"
"You're not going to heal a broken leg in a few days," Tony said flatly, turning and scooting closer to Bucky.
Bucky stilled, a cold sensation washing over him.
Tony didn't know. Bucky had thought, if Steve had told him about the arm and HYDRA, that he'd know about his healing and everything else, too, but…
Tony didn't know.
And the thought of telling him made Bucky feel ill.
"I will," Bucky said quietly, very deliberately not looking Tony in the eye.
He could still feel Tony's eyes on him, though, when Tony asked, "What?"
Bucky cleared his throat. "I will," he repeated, picking up a stick so he could stoke the fire. "I heal fast."
Tony made a noise of dissent.
"Nobody heals that fast. Nobody except -" Tony froze, and Bucky could picture his eyes widening. "- Steve. But you, you didn't..." He stopped, then scooted even closer, close enough that his arm brushed against Bucky's. "Steve's the only one Erskine ever tried his elixir on, isn't he?"
Bucky nodded, biting his lip. "As far as I know. But…" He sighed, then took a deep breath. "I - you know about HYDRA. About them taking me, and that when they had me, they made me do… things."
"Of course," Tony said, his voice hushed. Bucky chanced a glance at him and caught him watching Bucky with sad, worried eyes. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
Bucky swallowed. "That's not… they… did things, to me. Things that made me faster and stronger and more… hardy, than any regular soldiers could be." He looked down at his lap, remembering the coppery smell and taste of Zola's cup, and shivered. "Whatever they did that made me complacent, that's not the only thing it did. I heal faster, now. Broken bones, torn muscles, wounds that should fester… what would kill a normal person and take weeks for them to heal, I can come back from in a matter of days. This -" He tapped his leg. "I give it less than a week before I can walk again. Two, and it'll seem as though it never happened."
Tony didn't say anything right away. Then the arm that was brushing Bucky's moved, and Tony's hand slid over to Bucky's. "I'm sorry," he said softly, gently prying Bucky's clenched right fist open. "I'm sorry that happened to you."
He huffed lightly, then caught Bucky's eye and bumped his shoulder. "I can't really say I'm sorry you're harder to kill, though," he added, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
Something in Bucky's chest loosened. "That is one of the few perks," he agreed with a chuckle, returning Tony's shoulder bump with one of his own.
"Certainly makes our prospects of climbing out of here less bleak," Tony said brightly. He let go of Bucky's hand, to Bucky's disappointment, and picked up one of the strips in his lap. "In the meantime, though, I need to rebind your splint."
Bucky huffed and let Tony lift his leg into his lap, the discomfort of having his leg moved overshadowed by the coziness of the other man's body heat.
"You know, healing or not, Steve is going to shit himself when I finds out I broke you," Tony commented, pulling Bucky's leg up a little higher and adding another binding.
Bucky snorted and leaned back as Tony tightened it, then started on another one. "Not as much as he is when he finds out I threw you off of a cliff," he huffed, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "But really, who are we kidding? He's probably way past that stage already, since the moment he figured out we were both missing." He tried to hide a wince when the next knot jarred his leg, but Tony saw anyway, and patted his knee in apology. "I don't envy Fury or anyone else he's working with, right now."
"He's probably doing the jaw thing," Tony agreed distractedly. "You know, that thing he does when he's about to pick a fight over something?"
Bucky wheezed out a laugh and nodded. "Makes you wonder how he does it, you know? My teeth hurt just lookin' at him."
Tony tied off one last knot and then sighed in relief. "There, last one. You're all set." He gave Bucky a tired smile and gently patted Bucky's knee. "I'll probably have to keep tightening them again if they loosen up, but..."
Bucky grunted and leaned up on his elbows. "Thanks," he panted, carefully lifting his leg and then dropping it back into Tony's lap with a gasp.
"Don't move," Tony said, frowning and lightly squeezing Bucky's calf. "Pretend Steve is here glaring you into submission and doing his jaw thing."
Bucky chuckled and nodded, letting his head fall back against the ground. He closed his eyes and gave his leg one more experimental wiggle, and felt Tony squeeze his calf again in reproach.
"Gotcha, no moving," Bucky grunted, opening his eyes. "Oh, speaking of Steve's wrath…" He leaned forward and slipped his hand down his shirt, pulling Tony's pendant out and sliding it over his head. "Safe and sound, as promised."
One corner of Tony's mouth ticked up a fraction. Then he looked down at Bucky's leg. "Not entirely safe and sound," he muttered unhappily.
"S'not so bad," Bucky hummed self-consciously. "Better than dead, anyway."
Tony's face pinched. "That's not funny," he mumbled, taking the pendant and sliding it over his neck.
Bucky reached up and slid his hand under it without thinking, running his thumb over the smooth stone. "You know, Steve wouldn't have been angry if you'd lost it," he pointed out.
Tony looked down at Bucky's hand, a small, melancholic smile playing at his mouth. "No, but he'd probably be disappointed," he sighed, shaking his head. "And I - there's a lot of things I can take from him, but I cannot handle his disappointment. The Steve-Rogers-is-disappointed-in-you face is just… no." He shook his head again, his hand coming up to hold the stone as well.
Bucky winced and dropped his hand. "No, you're right. That'd be worse," he agreed. "Worse than the jaw thing, maybe even the sad eyes."
"The sad eyes!" Tony groaned, covering his face with his hands. "God, I - see, I think those are worse than the disappointed face. Because if he's giving the disappointed face he's usually doing the sad eyes, too, and then -" He lowered his voice. "I just want to hug him."
"I guess I'm immune," Bucky chuckled. "But seriously, he's not going to begrudge you a lost trinket, considering what you've been through."
Tony frowned and looked down at Bucky's leg, and started picking at a stray thread on his trousers. "Yeah, but I would," he sighed, playing with the pendant idly. He huffed out a little laugh. "Do you know he spent two weeks scouring markets for an engagement present?"
Bucky hummed. "No, but that sounds like something he would do," he agreed, looking up at the night sky.
Tony chuckled. "Well, he ended up finding this stone, and had it shaped and put on the cord himself, and -" He smiled to himself. "He was so pleased with himself, when he gave it to me… He said," His face reddened. "He said it reminded him of me." He looked down at the stone, and wrapped his hand around it protectively. "Bright and brilliant, with the little imperfections making it even more stunning. I mean -" Tony cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "God, who even says something like that?"
"Stevie," Bucky said softly, a strange little lump in his throat. "And he's not wrong."
Tony ducked his head, his blush deepening. After a few minutes of awkward fidgeting, he swallowed and mumbled, "It's just… I don't think anyone had ever gone to so much trouble to find a gift for me before. I - " He shook his head, some of his blush receding. "Have you seen my engagement gift to him?"
Bucky's brow furrowed. Then he remembered the odd necklace with the little metal disk he'd seen Steve wearing. "The metal ring he wears around his neck all the time?" Bucky asked.
Tony chuckled and nodded. "'Ring' is a nice way to describe it," he snorted, expression fond. "It's literally junk - a spare part he picked up from my workshop. I mean," He shook his head. "He actually picked it out. He - the first day, after Dad told me about the engagement, Steve paid me a visit. He came down to my workshop to talk about it, and to make sure I wasn't agreeing just because my father was pressuring me."
Tony stared out into the night, a faraway look in his eye.
"While we were talking I was making something - a silly little wind-up toy for a friend's child - and he, he loved it. Though he's always fascinated when he's in the workshop, so I guess it shouldn't have surprised me. Anyway, he asked me how it worked, and, as I was explaining all the parts, he picked up one of the spare gears and asked if he could have it. And then, then!"
Tony shook his head, and grinned down at Bucky.
"He clears his throat and gets that really earnest look on his face - you know exactly the one I'm talking about - and asks if I'll marry him. In the middle of my damn workshop. After we've already spent the better part of an hour talking about it, and it's all but decided anyway."
Tony shook his head again, and let out an exasperated huff. "So, after I say I've already said yes, you dramatic idiot, get your knees off my dirty floor, he holds up the gear, and asks if he can keep it as 'a token of my favor'. I mean… it was the most ridiculous, silly thing I'd ever seen, and yet…"
"You still said yes," Bucky finished quietly, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.
"I still said yes," Tony grumbled fondly. "So now the dramatic sap is running around the kingdom with a dirty old gear around his neck, while I have a beautiful stone that's supposed to somehow represent what a remarkable person I am." He sighed and ran his hand up and down Bucky's shin absently, which felt nice, and helped distract Bucky from the nagging ache. "And he won't let me replace it with anything else, either. I mean, I even offered to have a gold gear made specifically for him to wear, but he wouldn't have it."
Bucky grunted and shifted his weight. "It makes sense, though," he said slowly, wiggling some more and folding his arm back under his neck. The hard ground was making his neck and shoulders ache on top of everything else, but he didn't want to complain in case it made Tony move away . "Really, it's kinda cute. Like somethin' out of the stories his ma used to tell us when we were kids."
"It makes zero sense, but it is cute, which is why it pisses me off," Tony snorted. He must have noticed Bucky's discomfort anyway, because he frowned down at him, then scooped up what was left of the tunic he'd been ripping for the bindings.
"Here," he said, balling it up and slipping it under Bucky's head. "Sorry, I should've thought of that sooner."
Bucky hummed noncommittally. "'S'okay," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Unless you plan on sleeping sitting up, we can't stay in this position all night, anyway."
Tony startled, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him, then bit his lip. "Yeah, I guess, but…" He hesitated, and looked down at Bucky's leg. "Don't you need to keep this elevated? I don't mind sitting here a little while longer. I figured I'd just take first watch."
Bucky cracked one eye open. "You've been awake for hours, Tony. You need to get some sleep, too. Besides," He pointedly lifted his leg, ignoring the pain, and gave his thigh a light smack. "I told you, I heal fast, remember? I've recovered from worse injuries in far worse conditions; trust me, it'll be fine."
Tony still looked apprehensive, though, so Bucky sighed and sat up on his elbows. "If you want, you can lay on my right side, and I'll prop it up on your legs."
Tony stared at him blankly, eyes dropping from Bucky's face to his leg and then back again incomprehensibly.
Bucky huffed softly, then sat up and lifted his leg off of Tony so he could move. "It's too cold to sleep apart, Tony," he said, scooting over a little and looking around for his cloak, which Tony had left on his makeshift armor sled. "My cloak should cover us both, and it'll be warmer - and safer - if we stick together."
Tony nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly, but Bucky couldn't tell if it was the sleeping arrangement or the fact that he hadn't caught on right away that was embarrassing him. He scurried away towards the armor and came back a second later with Bucky's cloak bundled up in his arms, but hesitated before he sat back down.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay up and keep watch?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder and out into the dark.
Bucky took in the dark circles under Tony's eyes, the cuts and bruises on his face, his swollen lip, and the general look of exhaustion the man wore.
"We'll be fine," he said firmly, and patted the dirt to his right.
Tony sighed, but after a few more seconds of hesitation laid down beside him. There was still a good six inches of space between them, though, and Tony and laid his head right down on the ground. When a minute passed and Tony had made no inclination that he was going to move, Bucky sighed and scooted closer.
"Sleeping close for warmth only works if we actually, you know, sleep close," Bucky pointed out mildly, lifting his injured leg and propping it up on both of Tony's.
After a beat of silence, Tony sat up to spread the cloak over them, then, to Bucky's surprise, turned towards Bucky and settled his head on Bucky's shoulder.
When Bucky tilted his head up to catch Tony's eye, Tony snuggled even closer, eyebrows raised daringly.
"What? You have a pillow, and you're using me as a footrest, so the least you can do substitute for my pillow," he said, though Bucky noted his blush was back in full force.
Bucky grinned. "Fair enough," he said, laying his head back down and wrapping his arm around Tony so he wouldn't roll off. Truth be told, he liked the warm, comforting presence that was Tony's weight at his side, and the position would probably be doubly warm for them anyway.
Bucky shifted once more and made sure the cloak was adequately covering them both, then yawned. "Goodnight, Tony," he mumbled tiredly, exhaustion already pulling him into unconsciousness.
A soft snore was his only answer.
The next morning, Bucky woke to soft brown hair tickling his nose, and from the first good dream he'd had in nearly five years.
AN: For a link to artwork by Massivespacewren that goes with this chapter, check out my profile. :)
