A/N: Brace yourselves. It's about to get angsty.

The fighting is thick and heavy for a change. HYDRA has apparently wised up since the last few raids, and they're actually putting up a pretty sturdy resistance this time. As usual, Steve's out front, smashing his way through the lines and clearing a path for his team. As usual, Bucky had tried very hard to veto this plan. He might accept that Steve is the group's CO, and he might accept that their work is risky and dangerous by nature… but he absolutely refuses to accept that Steve shoulder the bulk of that danger. It's a battle of its own every time.

He's lost track of the others in the chaos, but he can hear shouting and crashing behind him and can only assume they're not far behind, since nobody's managed to take his head off from back there yet.

They've fought their way inside the gates and subdued the ground force, just doing clean-up in the courtyard outside, when it happens.
He's in the middle of wiping the floor with several masked combatants when the space around him suddenly clears and there's a distinctive whine in the air. He knows that sound…
He's got maybe five seconds to the impact and nowhere to run when something barrells into him from behind with a yelp of "STEVE GET DOWN!".
They roll together, landing in a heap against the stone wall of the compound, Steve beneath his rescuer. The ground where he'd just been explodes an instant later, in a shower of stone and hot debris. The person still sprawled over his back jolts with a pained sounding grunt. A few moments later, they roll gingerly away to crouch beside him, one arm cradled against their chest by the other, breathing hard through gritted teeth.

Steve's eyes go wide with realization.
"Buck!"

"Goddamn… idiot… Steve." Bucky pants, just before his eyes roll back in his head and he lists forward, slumping limply to the ground.

The world grinds momentarily to a halt as Steve lurches across the tiny distance between them and carefully rolls Bucky over. He checks fearfully for a pulse. It's there; a little thready, but strong. Bucky's out, but he's alive. Steve can breathe again.

Dugan, Fallsworth, and Morita clear out the remaining forces while Dernier sets up the demolition charges and Gabe skids to a halt beside Steve.
The battle draws to a swift end around them.

Bucky's shoulder took a hard hit from a chunk of debris, and got slammed out of joint. It'll need to be re-seated. He took another, mercifully smaller hit to the back of the head, and there's a small lump already forming there to prove it. Bucky doesn't seem too badly hurt, but he might also have a mild concussion from the shock-wave that followed, and that will make things messier.
Jones says he's safe enough to move that they can get him the hell out of here. That's all Steve needs to know.

"Man down, returning to camp! As soon as you're clear, hit the charges and get the hell out of here!" he calls, gathering Bucky up carefully in his arms. He tries very, very hard not to think about how close he just came to losing his best friend, as he turns around and runs full out.
Jones follows as close behind him as he can manage.

The sprint back to camp crawls past; agonizingly slow for all Steve's speed. He can feel Bucky's head lolling and thumping softly against his chest with every ground-eating stride, the arm tucked awkwardly over Bucky's inert body. He's trying his best not to jar the man in his arms any more than is absolutely necessary, but the ground is rough and there's only so much cushioning he can do.
Steve's asthma might be gone, but the familiar vice-like crush that squeezes all the air out of his lungs is making a stunning reappearance whenever his focus wavers and he lets himself replay the battle that they've just left. He can't decide if it's the shock that's causing it... or fear ...or both, but he shakes it off. He's still got a job to do.
Steve forces his mind to narrow down to only one thought: Get Bucky back to camp. Then he does just that.

Bucky's still out cold, carefully arranged in his bedroll beside their small campfire, his shoulder already popped back into joint, when the others return to camp. Steve thinks, with a barely suppressed shudder, that the sound the arm made when it finally slid back home will stay with him forever. Bodies shouldn't make that kind of noise.
Jones stays with Bucky by silent agreement, keeping a sharp eye out for complications, while Steve goes to meet the rest of the team.

Dugan's face is carved stone, his posture rigid, and his fists clenched. Somehow, even though they're close to same height, he still manages to loom threateningly over Steve.
"Th' hell happened back there, Cap?" he demands immediately, voice tight, low, and dangerous. Steve clears his throat and squares his shoulders. He might be Dugan's commanding officer, but he's well aware that that means all of jack and shit at the moment. He knows where this is going.

"Shell." he replies as steadily as he can, drawing himself up. "He tackled me clear before it hit."

"The fuck was he doing takin' a hit for you? You're fuckin' superman!" Dugan's voice gets a little more shrill and a lot louder as he talks. "Buck can't take a hit like you can, why the hell-" Dum Dum takes a step toward him and Fallsworth moves between them.

"Dugan." The Brit says sharply. "Stop it. This isn't helping anyone, least of all Barnes. Stand down."

"No, I wanna know why Sarge is the one laid out, Cap." Dum Dum goes on angrily, as if he hadn't heard, though he makes no move to push past Fallsworth and escalate this. "Kid's already been through hell, and now-"

Steve's frayed nerves abruptly snap."You think I wanted this to happen?!" he barks, feeling his face flush with frustrated anger. "You think for a second I'd have let him take a hit for me if I could help it?!" He takes a small step forward before he catches himself.
He's not going to hit Dugan. He understands exactly how the big man feels. He's furious too. At HYDRA. At himself. Even a little bit at Bucky for hurling himself into harm's way. There's no reason to make this any worse.

"So why'd he take it, then?" Dum Dum demands. He sounds less furious and more just desperate for someone, something to blame. "Why's he down for the count?"
The instead of you is implied, but Steve doesn't resent it. He'd trade places with Bucky in a heart-beat if it kept his friend safe. No matter what the price might be.

" 'Cause that's just what he does." Steve says his voice going quiet without his consent. Resigned. "When somebody's in trouble, he gets 'em out. Never have been able to get him to see sense…"

Dugan hesitates then, some of the fight going out of him. He looks like he wants to say more, but Bucky chooses that exact moment to groan and open his eyes. The tension in the camp fizzles instantly. Steve peels off from the confrontation and drops into a crouch beside his friend.

Bucky groans again, softer this time, before he spots Steve from the ground. Then he swears.
"Christ, Steve, you moron... You better be ok." Bucky mutters, slowly, swayingly, sitting up and putting one hand to his forehead. He winces when his shoulder pulls. "What'd… I tell you ...about tryin' to get yourself killed?"

"I'm fine, jerk." Steve assures him, almost giddy with relief. "You're the one that got your ass kicked. Don't you ever scare me like that again."

"...Told you that plan was stupid." Bucky grumbles instead of answering. He massages at his eyes for a second then lets the hand drop. "Said 'you're gonna get yourself killed', but you ever listen to me? Hell no."

"Buck, just so you know: if you die out here, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you." Steve tells him with an extremely strained grin, too grateful that Bucky's alright to even try looking serious.

"And I'll help." Dugan adds from behind him. "So knock off the heroic shit, Sarge."

"Couple'a killjoys." Bucky snarks, rubbing gingerly at his sore arm and flexing it carefully. He makes a face when something clicks. "Always gotta ruin all a guy's fun."