Chapter Text
Bucky
A whole week passed. Bucky only saw Steve in passing; he didn’t knock on his door anymore, didn’t ask him if he wanted dinner. Bucky even found himself hanging out in the kitchen in the hopes that he might run into Steve. The double rejection of not having Steve now as a friend or a lover stung worse than any backhand from a drunken handler.
Nat found him there one early evening, playing solitaire after a day that so far had consisted of dodging Dan’s questions and letting the wave of Peter’s chatter wash over him like a balm on the drive back from school.
She was dressed in loose workout gear but didn’t look like she had broken a sweat. Probably hadn’t since the turn of the millennium.
“Good session with Peter?”
She shrugged, opening the fridge and returned with a bowl of grapes. She gracefully pulled herself up onto the counter, legs crossed, facing him. An echo of his ma’s outraged voice sounded in his ears. Feet on the furniture like that, even if it was just socks, would’ve been enough to blow her gasket.
“He’s progressing but something isn’t right,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth.
He paused from laying the jack of spades that was in his hand. “In what way?”
“I mean, he listens well, follows instructions, agile but he’s very… timid.” Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be after everything? She carried on before he could interject. “Yeah, there could be fear there still. I don’t know…” She shrugged. “It feels like more than that. Maybe you’d be better off working with him.”
“Surely he’d be more likely to be afraid of me.”
She cocked her head. “Not if his issue is that he is afraid of hurting me.”
Bucky suppressed a laugh. “You think he is stupid enough to think that he could hurt you?”
A smile danced across her lips. “Well, teenagers aren’t know for their common sense.”
Bucky’s mind went back to his first meeting with Peter.
“True.”
“Regardless, I’ll give it another session or two.”
Nat went back to her bowl of grapes and picked out a clump before pushing it towards him. He shook his head as he looked back down at the cards. She waited a few more grapes before she spoke again -
“So, what’s up with you and our fearless leader?”
Bucky cut his eyes to her.
“Nothing.” The deck of cards suddenly felt heavier as he shuffled and started to deal again.
She hummed a response.
“Funnily enough he said the exact same thing.”
He looked up to meet her eyes which were pinned to his.
“You…you’ve talked to him?”
Damn it, even a five-year-old would’ve picked out the obvious interest in his voice. Let alone someone trained to spot a lie at 50 feet like Nat was.
Nat raised a solitary eyebrow as she finished chewing her grape.
“You two are just exhausting, you know that?”
Bucky went back to his cards. “Just leave it alone, Nat.” Bucky felt some of the righteous indignation rise that had been starting to build as the days without contact dragged on. If Steve was a bigot, then screw him. He hadn’t lived through seventy years of hell to pretend to be someone he wasn’t now. “Steve’s got a problem with me; he needs to get right with it.”
Nat rolled her eyes. “It’s a good job that the two of you are so pretty to look at because you are both so, so clueless.”
Before he could say anything more, FRIDAY’s voice emerged sounding serious.
“Avengers Assemble – conference room 143.”
Nat moved quickly but Bucky wasn’t far behind her. This hadn’t happened while he had lived here. He didn’t give a shit that he wasn’t an Avenger and it didn’t seem that anyone else did; no one batted an eyelid when he entered the room with her.
Sam was up on the screen – looked like a room at the Compound. Nat went straight up to where Tony was standing as he pulled information onto screens and moved it around like he was conducting.
Steve came in then, hair wet and damp spots on his clothes like he’d hurriedly pulled them on after a shower. His gaze lingered on him for half a second, giving him a tight nod before he turned his attention to the team.
“Sitrep?”
“We’ve got some credible intel that there is an attempted revival going on,” Tony said, not taking his eyes off the screen nor stopping his movements. “Some of Rumlow’s lackeys trying to set up shop.”
Bucky’s breathing actually slowed; the name like ice in his veins. Rumlow had been particularly sadistic; liked to use an electric cow prod to make his points. But he was dead; probably laughing to himself in hell that his death had led to the creation of the Accords and the whole nasty debacle that had followed.
“Hydra.” Steve breathed out; his eyes cutting to Bucky with concern.
“Well, maybe not formally,” Tony hummed. “Looks like they are putting out feelers on the dark web for use as mercenaries.”
“Makes sense given their faces and names are out in the world,” Nat added. “Not like they can be gainfully employed elsewhere.”
“So maybe not a Hydra cell but bad guys up to no good,” Sam said, his head tilting into the camera. “Where is it?”
Tony moved some stuff around and a map display came up. Looked like somewhere in Pennsylvania.
“Buckaroo – you recognise this place?”
Bucky jolted. Tolerating him in the room was one thing, but he hadn't expected to be included in the discussion. He walked stiffly in between Steve and Tony, looking at the screen. He reached out and moved the screen around changing it to satellite view. None of it looked familiar.
“No and it doesn’t have the characteristics of a typical Hydra sub-base. Though they have been known to improvise. Last place they had me was an old bank.” Bucky shrugged. He’d tried to remember the bank’s location but he had a mental block on that memory. Pain was a great memory sharpener though – he could remember the shiny interior of the bank’s safe boxes and the sharp blue eyes of Alexander Pierce on him when they sent shots of electricity through his brain. It had been the least effective wipe of his life given the next day Steve had broken through his programming. But the exact location was still hazy.
“Well, let’s not give them time to regroup. Let’s suit up and get over there tonight – we can sort out the game plan on the approach,” Tony said, swiping away some images as he did.
Steve turned to look at him, uncertainty in his eyes. Steve knew him, knew he wanted to go. He wasn’t cleared for combat yet, but he was sorely wanting to not give a fuck about that.
“Bucky bear, are you good to stay with Peter? I want him protected if this is some sort of trap to get us over there. You seem pretty good at making sure he doesn’t yeet himself off buildings.”
It was obvious what Tony was doing; Steve got it too, judging by the surprised stare he sent Tony. Tony was including him but also being sensitive to his need to be doing something to squash this cell. He’d also correctly ascertained that Peter had become a weak spot of his; he couldn’t say no to protecting the kid.
He numbly nodded.
The trademark Tony Stark grin was sent his way, his eyes crinkled into a smile. “I’ll lock down access to this floor and the Penthouse too just to be extra safe. Windows will be barred but everything else should be operational. I’ll let him know what’s happening and then send the kid down.”
Tony smacked him on the shoulder as he breezed past. Steve gave him an awkward smile and was gone.
—-
Peter
One of the web shooters had jammed – again. Luckily, he hadn’t been swinging too high at the time, had just scraped his knees up on the landing. Not much to hide from Bucky by the time he got home from Ned’s.
Peter had squirrelled away a few tools in his room – it wasn’t like he could work on the web shooters in the lab with FRIDAY recording and Tony hovering. He had locked his door, but his heart still pounded as he finished cleaning and fixing the spinnerets.
The week had been so busy that he hadn’t had time to look at them. Sure, he could do it at Ned’s tomorrow but he and MJ were still a bit salty about him ditching them early each time to go and Spider-man so he didn’t want to eat into any of their friend-time. By the time he had been to school, completed homework, done his regular evening as an SI intern – which was fricking fascinating – and then at least two evenings on what Ned liked to call his ‘parenternship’, well, that hadn’t left much time for fixing the shooters.
Not that he was complaining. He always liked being busy. And at least he was accomplishing stuff there. As Spider-man, less so. Ok, maybe that wasn’t completely true. He was helping people but the drug guys? They had pretty much gone to ground. At least that was what one half buzzed criminal had told him. It was good that he had scared them – he wanted less of that drug circulating the streets, sure – but it wasn’t exactly conducive to him finding Anton Galkin. If indeed, according to that Alex drug dealer dude, there was any of him left to find. At the very least, he needed to know what had happened to him and to put down this drug ring. Some version of justice for his family would be better than the big fat nothing that haunted him.
His phone buzzed as he worked away at his desk. Harley . They had mainly texted back and forth since they’d met, with one video call that came suspiciously close to when he’d had his impromptu unscheduled errands. Harley had straight up told him that Tony had rang in a panic asking if he’d heard from him. If there was one thing Harley could be counted on it seemed to be being direct.
Case in point.
“Your dad is a jerk.” Harley’s face came on screen. Well, half his face did. The other half was laying smooshed against his desk, eyeballs precariously close to a screwdriver.
Peter snorted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Harley grunted. “He sent me another cheque for my college fund and now my mom is forcing me to make him a homemade card.”
“Yeah,” Peter deadpanned. “He is the worst.”
“Right?” Harley said, sitting up. “I tried to ring him to thank him, but FRI said he is uncontactable at the moment.”
“Weird.” Peter frowned. “FRIDAY, where is Tony?”
“Boss is currently in an Avengers meeting, Peter.”
Peter pointed at the sky and Harley slumped back down with a grumble, his head on his desk.
“What are you up to?”
He paused, suddenly aware of the web shooter on the desk in front of him. It was out of sight of the camera, but he still edged the desk drawer open and swept it inside. He picked up a mini screwdriver and twirled it in sight.
“Oh, you know, just dicking around. Got a phone to fix for someone at school.”
A shadow of a frown ran across the half of Harley’s forehead that he could see. “You’re still doing that for cash?”
Peter shrugged. He wasn’t doing so many now, but it was still reassuring to have some cash at hand. “It’s extra pocket money.”
Harley sighed. “Are you still being weird about the money thing?”
He rolled his eyes. “No.” The still unopened Stark phone sat in his drawer taunted him. “I’m not weird about the money thing. The money thing is weird.”
Harley nodded his head in agreement, his arm reaching off screen and coming back with a bag of chips that he opened as he spoke. “Yeah, I can’t really argue that billionaire dads are all that normal. Not your one anyway.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. He moved over, taking Harley with him on the phone, unlocking the door and pulling it open.
Tony; a tired smile on his face. “How you doing, bud?”
Peter stepped back and Tony came in. “Good. Harley is here too.” He waved the phone a little.
Tony’s eyebrows quirked at that but he knocked his shoulder against Peter’s as he peered at the screen.
“Harls.”
“Mechanic,” Harley said, with a tip of his now upright head. “How’s it going? Thanks for the college bump. I think you’ve confused me with someone who wants to do a PHD but thanks nonetheless.”
“How is my card coming on?” The grin on Tony’s face was pure evil.
“See, I told you he was a jerk,” Harley sighed. “Can’t you just tell her you got it and you loved it?”
“I would never lie to your mother, Harley Keener. Shame on you.” Oh boy, Tony was enjoying this far too much. “Besides, I like adding to my collection.”
“You send one every time…” Peter raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yes, every time, Petey boy. Show him FRI.” A hologram popped out of Tony’s watch, a carousel of various homemade cards on the screen.
“One year he purposely sent me money five different times, so I had to make five cards. Grade A jerk.”
“You shouldn’t have ganged up with Steve to prank me then should you.”
Harley’s expression tightened for a second, before relaxing into a smile. “Actually, that was totally worth it….”
Excitement bubbled in Peter's stomach. “What did you do?”
A wicked smile grew on Harley’s face this time.
“No, nope.” Tony interjected. “You can tell him another time. I have to steal him away. Time sensitive.”
“No…no,” Harley protested, a chip flying out of his hand as he gesticulated.
Tony’s voice changed. “Seriously. Avengers stuff, Harls.”
That sobered him up, and Peter’s stomach did a flip on seeing it.
“No problem. I’ll fill him in later.” Harley was looking at Tony now with large, serious eyes. “Stay safe, yeah?”
“Always.” Tony’s words were cocky, but his tone was gently serious.
Harley threw out a peace sign and was gone.
“What is going on?” His voice wavered without his consent.
Tony’s hands clamped around his shoulders. “We’ve just got a small mission. Taking down a potential terrorist base.”
Peter’s spidey sense throbbed; a long pulse of electricity down his spine. This was the first time Tony had been involved in anything dangerous since he’d known him. Any superhero worship that might have been leftover dissipated. It didn’t seem so exciting from this end.
“Terrorists?” How did his mouth get so dry?
His anxiety was picked up instantly. Tony’s expression softened; “It’s nothing major, rounding up some stragglers that should have looked into alternative occupations. Pepper and Happy are still away so Bucky is gonna stay with you. And we are gonna lock down the floors. Purely a safety precaution. ”
Peter nodded; his chest feeling like an empty shell. “When, uh, when is the mission?”
“We are gonna suit up now and head straight out. Hopefully back in time for brunch tomorrow. We’ll order something from that place in Greenwich you liked, OK?”
Tony’s hands were rubbing his shoulders, his eyes on him expectantly. He pushed out as genuine a smile as he could manage. “Yeah, sure. That sounds great.”
“Ok, do you want to come down to the common floor and see us off? Get to see your old man looking cool in my suit?” A wry smile flitted over Tony’s lips but it was all he could do to nod numbly back at him.
His heart was beating fast - like he was excited. Tony hesitated for all of half a second before he gave his shoulders an extra squeeze and headed out of the door.
Another spike of electricity shot down his spine. No, it wasn’t excitement, it was dread.
---
Bucky
Bucky could barely concentrate on the holoscreen with the way Peter was vibrating next to him. He shouldn’t have agreed to let him look at the live footage. He knew that. But with those puppy dog eyes, Peter was way too quick to convince him otherwise. Well, he had to keep an eye on him. He’d sworn to Tony that he would and… fine. He had caved.
Peter’s fingers drummed against his thighs for the millionth time and he shot his hand out and stilled his hand.
Peter gave him a sheepish look before giving a mumbled ‘sorry’.
“You got homework to do or something?”
Peter stiffened; his chin jutting out slightly. “No, I’m all up to date.”
Of course he was.
Bucky sighed. Before he could try to think of something to occupy him, a new holoscreen came to life – four different cameras coming into play – names next to them.
“Be careful with those new bites, Widow. They pack a nasty punch.” Tony’s voice came into the room. Bucky’s eyes flicked to his screen – seeing what he saw - residential buildings below as he flew overhead.
Natasha and Steve were obviously on the ground from the darkened views; Natasha shifted, and Bucky could see the outline of a modern looking warehouse.
“Ok, kiddos. I’m ready to take out the electrics whenever you are ready, Spangles.”
Steve’s voice came through. “Widow, are you in position?”
“Copy.”
“Falcon?”
“Two minutes out.” Sam’s deep voice came through.
“Buckaroo, all quiet at the homestead?”
Bucky jolted. They knew he was watching? Peter looked at him and as he went to open his mouth, Bucky put a finger to his lips – he wasn’t sure if Tony would be happy he’d let Peter watch and there was no point in putting more stress onto the situation.
“Yes, all quiet here. Peter’s finished his homework already.”
Tony let out a deep chuckle. “Of course he has, my little nerd. When my dad was out of town, I’d have thrown a party…”
Peter rolled his eyes and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh and bump his shoulder against Peter’s.
The steady tone of Sam’s voice cut them off. “I’m in position, Cap.”
“Cut the chatter now.” Steve’s voice was even sharper – tone serious and in charge. This was the voice he recognised from his Howling Commandos days. It sent a shiver through his spine. “Ok, everyone remember that we are looking to gain maximum information even if we’d rather pummel these guys into the ground.”
It sounded like Steve was convincing himself more than everyone else.
“Cut the power, Iron Man.”
The angle from Steve’s suit showed the security lights going off on the outside of the warehouse. The infrared cameras on their uniforms jostled as Nat and Steve moved in.
“And be so kind as to open up for us.”
“My pleasure, Oh Captain, My Captain.”
The loud boom made Peter jump and edge closer to him; his eyes not leaving the screen.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be watching this, kid,” Bucky murmured quietly near Peter’s ear.
Peter didn’t acknowledge him, nor did he move.
Gunshots rang out and suddenly the screens were full of commotion. Bucky’s eyes darted from one to another, trying to take in the scene.
Nat’s voice rang through the speakers; her voice stilted as she breathed hard. “I plugged into their systems but got pinned back. There is a huge weapons cache here. I’m at the mouth of the vault. I need back up.”
Bucky could make out many Hydra agents from her view alone; even though she was moving so fast it was hard to make out numbers. But if she was asking for back up at all, it must be bad.
“I’m heading your way, Widow.”
A fifth screen suddenly popped up, the name Redwing. It showed an aerial view; figures running from the building towards some vehicles parked there.
“There are five targets moving west from a side door towards two vans,” Bucky barked out; unsure if they could even hear him now.
“Falcon, can you pursue?” Steve’s voice came straight back.
“Copy that. Are the new rockets on my pack strong enough to take out a van, Iron Man?”
“What do you take me for?” Tony’s voice was playful but it didn't ease the knot in Bucky's stomach..
Peter jumped again as there was another explosion – the vans flipping in the air and the swooping outline of Falcon’s wings coming in. “Hands up, kneel down.”
Bucky’s attention went back to the fight inside. It was full hand to hand combat for Steve and Nat. Tony was occupied on the other side of the complex —he’d rounded up a group of Hydra agents and had herded them into a corner. They were all kneeling down.
“Cap, I’ve radioed to law enforcement to move in now to take the prisoners– they are three minutes out. You likely to have any more?”
There were only grunts and the sounds of gunfire and of metal hitting into bodies. That shield really was something else.
Peter suddenly stiffened next to him. “Something’s wrong.”
He barely had the chance to look at Peter before his attention was diverted back to the screen.
“Cap, Nat, get out of there.” All humour in Tony's voice was gone. Peter was right up next to him then, his hand curled into the fabric of his top. “I just got a reading on an energy spike – looks too much like a bomb for my liking.”
Natasha’s camera showed she was moving. Good. They had to get out of there before… Bucky's stomach coiled. Steve's view was still. He wasn't running. He wasn't retreating. He had only moved to a bank of computers; the shield must be overhead as the ping of bullets off metal echoed around them.
“I’m right by the data drives. The programme is almost complete.”
“There’s no time, Cap.” Tony’s voice was even more tense. Bucky’s metal hand whirred as he clenched it. “Get out of there.”
Steve’s monitor barely moved, and he didn’t say anything but his vitals displayed on the screen hadn’t changed.
“Stevie, get out of there!” Bucky shouted at the screen; his metal fingers denting the desk beneath.
Tony let out a string of expletives. His screen was moving now, Redwing showing from above when the Iron Man suit crashed through the ceiling right next to Steve. From the screens he could make out a red metal hand gripping Steve’s arm and Tony started to fly upwards.
There was a loud bang; smoke filling Redwing’s screen and Tony and Steve’s screens went black.
Bucky’s heart stuttered as he stared at the screen; he didn’t breathe, all of his focus on the blank screens.
“Iron Man, Cap, come in. Do you read me?” The silence that followed Falcon's voice was deafening.
Peter’s fingers were digging into his flesh now, hard enough to bruise, but he could barely feel it. The hand dropped away as he moved closer to the screens, manipulating the holograms to try to get a better angle .
“Falcon, Widow. We have no visual from their suits, smoke only on yours. What can you see on the ground?” Bucky burst out, finally enough breath to speak.
He could just about make out movement from both of their screens: coughing filling the speakers.
“Smoke is too thick to get closer.” Nat’s voice sounded smaller than he had heard before.
Another screen popped up - emergency vehicles were arriving on the edge of the explosion– police, fire and ambulance. Nat moved at speed towards them, making a beeline to the fire engine and taking a mask. He could hear protesting voices as she moved away quickly, stepping over debris and gliding through the smoke like she had x-ray vision.
She stopped then, smoke starting to clear until he could see what she had stopped in front of – the red and gold suit stood out amongst the grey. It was bent over – as if on hands and knees – and as more of the smoke cleared Bucky could make out Steve’s limp form being protectively cradled by it.
His throat felt so tight, the urge to call out for him like that might wake him up, like he was lying there in a deep sleep and not injured… or worse.
The camera showed fire fighters coming in on either side of Nat now, carefully placing a mask over Steve’s cut up face.
Nat moved over to Tony, getting right up next to the faceplate. “Tony, Tony, you awake in there?” The light still shone brightly on the arc reactor, but there was no response. How the hell were they going to get the Iron Man suit off of Steve if it was inoperable?
He should be there. He could have lifted it.
Before his body decided to somehow, through force of will, get him to Pennsylvania at lightning speed, Nat tapped her comm three times. “FRIDAY initiate override Widow 788394 delta bravo. Roll the armour over, carefully to avoid Cap.”
The armour responded immediately and did just that, rolling onto its back. The firefighters rushed in and began checking on Steve, he didn’t take his eyes off of them as they did.
“FRIDAY,” Nat’s voice rang out again. “Initiate ‘Open Sesame’ protocol under the same override. Open the faceplate and run diagnostics.”
The faceplate popped up revealing Tony’s slack face, blood dripping in a steady stream down his face.
A whimper next to him had Bucky freeze. Oh, fuck…
He spun on his heel. Peter was behind him, staring at the screen, pure horror etched into every pore. Bucky moved towards him and his stare didn’t even falter. His chest was rising up and down at speed, a hand clutching the fabric around his neck.
“Pete, hey, Peter, take a breath.” Bucky stepped in front of him; hands hovering over his shoulders.
“I… I can’t…” The words stuttered out and he started to tilt to the left slightly. Bucky grabbed him to stop his fall and felt a violent flinch go through Peter’s body and into his hand as he did. His instinct was to let go but he had to make sure Peter didn’t pass out right there. Grounding worked for him. He kept his hands on Peter’s trembling body as he lowered them both to the ground. Peter's hands fisted into Bucky’s shirt with enough force to tear.
“I… I can’t,” Peter mumbled again. There were tears in his eyes waiting to fall.
“In and out, Queens, come on.” He pushed the hand that was fisted in his shirt against his chest now. “Feel the rhythm. Match your breaths to mine.” He exaggerated his breaths again, Peter’s hand moving with him.
Peter all but collapsed against him as his breathing began to ease. Fuck. He should never have let him in the room.
Bucky pressed his hand to Peter’s head, securing it against his chest.
“I can’t… I can’t do it.” The words were spoken devoid of panic now, with such sheer reverence that Bucky tilted his head to Peter – whose eyes were solely on the screens which hovered above them now; crowds of emergency service workers around the two fallen Avengers. A shudder ran through Peter’s small body as it pressed closer into him. “Not again.”
———