DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Marvel Cinematic Universe, or any of the characters contained therein.

WORD COUNT: 1147

It was a mistake. He thought he'd taken enough precautions that a dinner out with his girlfriend would be safe enough to take that risk. He'd booked the table under an alias, run background checks on all the employees, had Natalia and Barton do a perimeter sweep of the area beforehand, and arranged for armed backup just in case something went wrong.

Something must have slipped through the cracks.

It went well at first; he had specifically requested a table that would allow him to see the entire restaurant from his seat, and he and Darcy had selected a wine that wasn't overly expensive, but still outside the price range they would normally limit themselves to. The waiter arrived in a decent time and delivered the wine before taking their order. Bucky hadn't taken a drink right away, as he was still laughing about a story Darcy had been telling him about her time in New Mexico pre-Thor. But when he did, he froze.

He knew that smell. All his senses had been greatly enhanced by Zola's version of the Serum, and HYDRA had taught him to use them very well. It was one thing to notice various sounds and smells that others couldn't; it was another to be able to identify what they were. And he had the smell of every poison known to HYDRA committed to memory.

Cyanide. There was cyanide in his wine.

Without even stopping to say anything to her, he reached over and snatched Darcy's wine glass out of her hand. Ignoring her protests and confusion, he sniffed it and found the same thing.

It was already half empty.

"Poison," he told her, silencing her mid-word, "This wine's been spiked with cyanide."

She paled, looking at him with horror. "Oh my God," she whispered, "Oh my God…"

He was on his phone with Natalia in less than a second, gripping Darcy's hands with his free one. "Someone's slipped cyanide in our wine. Darcy's had half a glass already; we need medical."

He was about to get up and look for the waiter, but he was distracted by a commotion at another table; a woman was in distress because her husband had just collapsed, and even from this distance, he recognised symptoms that suggested that cyanide was also the culprit there.

"It's not just us; someone at another table's had the same thing."

Darcy's fingers tightened on his hand, her breathing coming short and rapid. "Bucky?" she whispered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, "Am I going to die?"

He brought up his hand still holding hers and kissed her fingers, listening to Natalia over the phone. "Romanoff says help is on the way," he told her, "The nearest hospital and paramedics have been alerted, and our own backup is en route as we speak. You'll be fine, Doll, I promise." The fact that she hadn't already collapsed indicated that she'd gotten a low dose. He couldn't tell if her shortened breathing was a symptom of cyanide poisoning or just fear.

He heard the raised voices as the two Avengers Initiative agents entered the restaurant and started barking orders, but didn't pay any attention to what they were saying. He kept an eye on the other people in the room, but none of them did anything to indicate they were involved. Many were scared, but that was a natural reaction to what was going on, even without knowing the whole picture.

By the time the medics had arrived, Darcy's symptoms had worsened. She complained of a headache and dizziness, and her skin had taken on a distinctly reddish tone. "Bucky…" she gasped, her breathing getting worse, "Babe, I don't feel very good."

Bucky kept a hold on her right hand, even as the paramedics waved him to the side to treat her. "It's okay, Doll," he assured her, "It's going to be okay." He looked over at the medic. "Right?"

Either the paramedic he was talking to didn't recognise him, or she didn't care, but either way, her tone was very calm as she answered him. "We have a standard kit for treating cyanide poisoning. She's got a good chance."

Bucky turned his attention back to Darcy as the medic fitted a mask over her face. He knew what the standard procedure was: an inhaled dose of amyl nitrite, followed by sodium nitrite and then sodium thiosulfate, both through an IV.

"Bu- Bucky," she gasped again, "I don't-" She gasped again. "I lo- I love you."

His heart stilled. They'd been dating for months, but they had never gotten to the stage of saying those words (at least, not out loud, as he had said it many times when she was asleep and couldn't hear him). But for her to say it now… It felt like a goodbye.

"Come on, Darce, don't say it like that," he begged, "You're going to be fine, Doll, I promise. You'll be just fine. … Doll? … Darcy? … Darcy?!"

According to Natalia, it turned out to not be a targeted attack on Bucky or Darcy. Some disgruntled ex-employee (fired long before Bucky had run background checks) had gone off the rails, fashioned a cyanide solution from almonds, apricot pits, and other natural sources, and snuck into the kitchen and poisoned a few bottles of wine – and other inventory items – to get revenge for being fired.

Darcy and several other patrons were rushed to the hospital. The man who had first collapsed was in a coma, and they weren't sure if he was going to make it or not. Darcy was unconscious, but she had a much better chance of recovery, according to the doctors.

Bucky didn't leave her side, except occasionally to use the bathroom attached to her private room, and even then, he was as quick as he could possibly be. Jane and Thor joined him shortly after, and he glared defensively at anyone who entered the room and wasn't an Avenger (as every single member on the roster came to visit at least once) – even the hospital staff.

Two days later, she woke up.

Thor had gone to get lunch for himself and Bucky and Jane. Jane was curled up in her chair, a hardcover book precariously balanced on her knee and threatening to slip off at the slightest shift. And Bucky was sitting on Darcy's left, clutching her hand in both of his, running his right thumb over her knuckles but otherwise staying unnaturally still.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw, once her vision cleared, was his face.

The first words she heard out of his mouth were "I love you."

Okay, ridiculously sappy ending, I know.

The information about the standard cyanide poisoning treatment comes from Wikipedia.

Next chapter's prompt: Betrayed