You and Me ch 2
A/N. for this one, I am "ignoring" Nat's relationship with Barnes.
Natasha sat with the silent Cap, holding his hand in support. The tension in the makeshift ER could be cut by lasers, it was so thick. Feeling the rough calluses on Steve's hand, it hit her suddenly this man, old beyond his years, was watching the last person that shared a connection to his time, his world, possibly slipping away.
How earthshattering that must be? she thought carefully in the void of conversation. Steve's full attention was on the crowd of medical personnel who scurried about and had frantic moments of activity followed by noiseless work and then another panic moment. They both watched as the electric paddles were used at least three times, the doctors arguing if his metallic arm would interfere with the electric pulse. Each time it jolted James, Steve flinched in response as if connected physically to him. After all, what did they have to lose except for Steve Rogers's best friend?
Rogers wore his age haggardly on his young face, Natasha noticed, but she certainly could not blame him. Peggy was gone, the Howling Commandos were gone and after Washington DC, the whole world probably seemed blown to Hell to him. Rogers often told her stories about Bucky and their adventures over at the Avengers tower. The brotherly love he felt for that man was overpowering and Natasha felt like she knew James almost as well as he did from listening to Steve's yarns. Suddenly, a lump in her throat rose at the prospect he may not make it.
Deciding that was too much to lose while sitting and watching it unfold before him she tugged on Steve's hand. He reluctantly looked away from the medical team to her, "Hey. Get some sleep. Your head needs a rest."
"I'm fine." he replied gruffly, looking back at the grisly scene.
"Steven Grant Rogers, you are dead on your feet. Get to the cockpit now. There's a space for you." Widow commanded in her most threatening voice.
Steve looked at her hard, his eyes like sapphires dulled by exhaustion. Opening his mouth to protest, he wisely closed it and set his jaw. Rising silently with dignity, he limped off to the empty seat in the cockpit, hoping that Sam would be better company.
After Cap disappeared, Widow tiptoed carefully across the cargo hold. She was amazed at how steadily Sam was piloting the craft as not to jar the surgeons working feverishly on James. The activity was winding down now as she tried to peek over the heads and shoulders.
The main surgeon turned to her before she got a good look in, "Is Captain alright?"
"He's resting, up front." she answered the concerned looking doctor.
"I'm sure he's a realist, but we've done all we could. The rest is in Seargent Barnes' hands and any higher power you believe in." The doctor looked truly upset that he may not have been able to save James' life, the best friend of Captain America. It was obvious he thought that fact seemed to make him some sort of national traitor.
Widow put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, spattered with Bucky's blood, "You have done your best. Seargent Barnes is… resilient."
"For Cap's sake, let's hope so." The surgeon tiredly turned from her to go clean up.
The closing surgeon was patiently working stitches through Bucky's torso like a seamstress sewing precious white silk satin, so pale was James' skin. A wound drain was added that stuck out of his belly into a jar, like a worm. Natasha, not a squeamish person by any means, felt her stomach turn sour. The quinjets engine roar overcame the rhythmic beep of the EKG machine marching out Barnes' life like a metronome. It was plain to see it was very slow. Bucky had a tube going down his throat pumping his lungs full of air, each breath measured on a small white accordion-like bag. Blood hung suspended above him and it wasn't' the first pint to go into him. The floor was slippery with gore as the nurses wiped dots and smears of blood from the operation site. Suddenly, Natasha felt very cold as it was obvious that Barnes was just a fragile threads from slipping off into death.
The surgeon tied off the knot with expert hands, looking over his work, magnifying glasses making him appear like some sort of strange insect. Satisfied, he flipped the lenses up to his forehead. Despair hollowed out his eyes and cheeks. Suddenly, his expression changed, as he looked just past Romanov's shoulder. Spinning on her heel, feeling the slipperiness of James's blood on the floor, she saw Steve behind her.
His hands hung limply by his sides as shadows carved canyons under his eyes and face. She could see his breathing was labored by the emotions flowing through, looking at Bucky on the operating table. The star on his chest was grey and the red and blues of his uniform were dull like his own life was ebbing away with Barnes'. Blue eyes were clouded by pain and hurt.
Natasha stepped back some, "Steve-" she began holding up her hands in entreaty.
Harshly he began, "Leave… " He stopped, blinked and corrected his tone, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Please. Can I have a moment?"
Romanov stepped back farther, "Of course." she replied and fell away with the rest of the medical staff to give him some space.
Rogers approached the table, resting his hands on it, not touching Bucky, head hanging low between his shoulders. Squeezing his eyes shut against the sight before him, he fought against the splintering sensation in his soul. "Once. I lost you once. I died that night with you. Every day, I died knowing I could have… should have… saved you." Steve whispered gently feeling tears building. Hold on to yourself Rogers, he admonished himself, he needs younow. "I have a lot to make up to you. I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not ever. Stay with me Bucky. Stay. You're my brother. You're more to me than my own life. You're my everything."
James didn't answer, but the quinjet shuddered slightly as they began to descend for landing. Rogers felt his ears begin to pop with the air pressure change, which brought on another throbbing concussion headache. Gripping his head with one hand, he steadied himself with the other, but it was plain to see, he was about to collapse. Widow swooped in under his arm and supported him, "C'mon Cap. Let's get buckled in. Doc's have to secure Bucky too."
Steve let her lead him away, leaning on her more than he thought he should but at that moment, he didn't care. His heart and soul was left on that table next to Bucky. He wasn't a doctor or a miracle worker, but he hoped his admission was enough that James heard him and would hang on.