Someone who is not a villain, says to Steve, "Unfortunately, you appear to be alright."
Let it never be said that
Sam Wilson wasn’t a good sport. Sam Wilson
was a great sport. He got up at ungodly hours to jog, even in
the rain. And the snow. He was patient. He Avengered nine-to-five Monday to Friday
and sometimes nights and weekends because HYDRA was a pain in the ass.
But there was a limit to
what can reasonably be expected of a man.
Heaven forbid Steve actually rest up for an entire day to heal up his latest Injury
Due To An Unnecessarily Heroic Act.
So when Sam returned from
the range to find Steve sprawled across the floor looking at once helpless,
determined, affronted, and maybe a little bit like he was in pain, Sam couldn’t
“Life Alert could’ve
really minimized the time you’ve spent down there, you know.”
Steve groaned. “Help me up, Sam. I just wanted some water, I could get it
“You have a serious
concussion and when I left, you were wobbling on the couch like the whole room
“Do you think this means
it’ll take longer for me to heal?” Steve
made a face at the prospect.
“Unfortunately, you appear
to be alright.” Sam was thankful for all
the extra training and he hoisted Steve back up onto the couch.
“Hey nothing. Stop adding insult to your own injury and
start acting sensibly.”
Summary: Bucky is having a really tough day and you can’t help but go the extra mile to make the super soldier smile
A/N: Here @imhereforbvcky since you’re having such a shit day, I’m returning the favour but instead of just sending this to you, I’m posting it and I promise I won’t criticise and scrutinise it like I do with my other stuff. So here. Waste time on this.
Warnings: Language (I’m English lol sorry), vague explanation of traumatising dream. And Christmas? Kinda angsty but it’s a fluff, I swear.
A couple of months had passed since you last woke up to the
gut wrenching scream and you’d all just started to believe he was getting
better. But tonight broke the lucky streak. You wake with a jolt upon hearing
the terrorised outcry coming from Bucky’s room. Looking to your clock, you see
it’s just past three in the morning and you can hear his laboured breathing
despite his room being two doors down the hall so you kick your sheets off of
yourself, wrapping a dressing gown around yourself before leaving your room but
upon reaching the Winter Soldier’s door, you hear Steve calming down his best
friend and you pause.
Mindlessly, you glance through the crack in the door and the
sight makes your heart break. Bucky is sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes
puffy and red, hair dishevelled and a deadly grip on edge of the mattress as he
leans forward, head hung low, trying to slow down his breathe. Steve sits beside
him, every inch of him showing the fatigue he so clearly felt yet here he was,
softly talking Bucky down from his panicked state with nothing but empathy in
his voice. Taking a deep breathe, you step away from the door, feeling a sense
of intrusion, before turning and making your way back in to your room.
That night, you fall asleep thinking about how hard it must
be on the man to spend years having no control over his body, finally breaking through that only to be plagued by memories that keep him up at night. And then
to feel like you’re not able to talk about it? You couldn’t imagine what that would feel like. He was silent when he came to
the tower, only speaking to Steve, practically following him around when he
left his room, which was rare in and of itself. Two months passed before he
started leaving his bedroom to join the team in the common room or in the training
room and you never said it but you took pride in being the first person he
chose to speak to that wasn’t the star spangled man himself.
He was the one to initiate it, much to your surprise.
Unlike some of the other team members, you’d been keeping your distance but it
turned out that’s why he approached you. “You were the only one who wasn’t
trying to force me to speak. Or pitying me, for that matter” he had told you one day when you’d asked why he approached you (long after that first conversation you’d had). He was no longer the quiet
recluse but that didn’t mean he was open and inviting. He was no Wanda, that’s
Restless sleep overcame you for the rest of the night and
when you finally got up for the day, you were still as tired as you were when
going to bed hours earlier. Shuffling through the tower, you make your way to the common room with its adjacent kitchen and set about brewing a fresh pot of
coffee. The tower was always a little quieter when team members were on a
mission and today was no different.
Sam and Bucky had left in the early hours before sunrise on
a simple mission to intercept a small Hydra base nearby and their absence was prominent. By the time you’d sat down with your mug of coffee,
Tony walked in and it was clear he hadn’t slept at all, probably lost track of
time tinkering with whatever gadget he was creating or improving.
He sent a grateful look in your direction when he saw the
fresh coffee and you simply raised your mug in response but before you could take
your first sip, FRIDAY’s voice filled the room. “Mr Stark, Sam Wilson is
calling for your aid urgently”.
There is a moment of silence as you and Tony share a worried
look before he instructs the AI to tell Sam and Bucky that he was on his way.
The coffee in his hand was left untouched and neglected as we walked out of the
common room and anxiety began to eat away at you. This was supposed to be a
Sam and Bucky returned within the hour and they looked rough
but there was a heavy air of tension between the two as they entered the common
room, Wilson making his way to the fridge while Barnes practically fell on to
the couch. Natasha was beside you, eyeing the pair wearily, simply waiting
for something to happen - it was bound to with amount of seething anger floating
The refrigerator door slams shut, making you jump as you
turn to find Sam glaring at the man on the couch “All of this! All of this
could be avoided if you had just listened”
he roared and Bucky shot up to his feet.
“I told you I’m sorry, Sam!” he boomed. There was a pause
before he spoke again “It was a mistake. Neither of us knew there were agents
behind that door” his voice was eerily quiet and you knew there was a storm
brewing under there.
Sam lifted his hand, pointing a finger at Bucky and began
walking towards him, fast. “I told you. I told
you not to go in there. We didn’t need
to go in there. But you decided to
make your own plans once again and
now Tony is there saving our ass”. Bucky responded to Sam’s threatening
demeanour by taking a step forward, his chest heaving as he withheld his anger,
his shoulders straightening, his body tensing.
Natasha and you moved in sync, stepping in front of the
boys, clearly seeing how quickly the situation was escalating out of hand. Your
hand was placed on the soldier’s chest while Natasha held on to Sam’s forearm,
both of your standing in front of them but they kept their eyes on each other,
angry glares on both ends.
“Okay, both of you stop. What’s happened has happened. Tony
is dealing with it. You have got to
calm down” Natasha’s voice is firmly and that there is no room for
argument. You take a moment to thank the stars that Natasha was such a badass.
Almost two hours passed before Tony returned. After their
outburst, Sam had walked out of the room, probably heading to the training room
to let off some steam. Bucky remained in the common room, taking a seat back on
the couch but he didn’t speak and you knew better than to push him for
information. Every so often, you chanced a glance at him and could see the
self-loathing that was simmering under the surface and it pained you not to be able to do
anything about it. Steve had heard what happened and soon joined his best friend on the
couch, also choosing to remain quiet. Sam happened to return just before Tony
walked in and judging by the look on Stark’s face, you were willing to bet
another argument was about to begin.
Tony stopped in the middle of the room, pointed at Bucky, to Sam, and back to Bucky before he spoke, his words quiet and slowly drawn out,
“You two are fucking idiots” and
every syllable expressed the anger he withheld. Sam was the first to respond
“Me?! I told him not to! This is on him” and it was clear that the physical
exertion had done nothing to calm him down. Bucky remained silent. Tony and Sam
began voicing their outrage at the mistake Bucky had made.
From what you could understand, he made a mistake and walked
in to a trap. A room filled to the brim with agents who knew they were coming
and Bucky and Sam had barely made it out alive. When Tony arrived, they were
still fighting and Tony had no choice but to begin an air strike upon the
building, killing every Hydra agent inside but also killing any innocent people
they may have had held as hostages.
Steve tried speaking up to end the onslaught but he was
shut down. Fast. And Bucky remained silent. It was only when Sam and Tony
seemingly ran out of insults to hurl at him did he look up with a venomous
stare. “Are you done?” his voice was dangerously low but he didn’t wait for a
response, stalking out of the common room and within seconds you heard the slam
of his bedroom door being swung shut.
The common room was silent. Bruce, Natasha and Wanda had run
in when they heard the commotion but hadn’t said a word. You were the one to
break the silence this time. “You see, there was a line there but you didn’t
just cross it, guys. You fucking blew it up” your eyes switched from glaring at
Tony to glaring at Sam. Wilson was the first to speak up “He was stupid-” “He
made a god damn mistake. Can you honestly say you haven’t?” you cut him off but
you hadn’t finished speaking your mind. Making sure you kept your voice low,
“Wilson, remember the time you flew a god damn homing missile in to
the quinjet, effectively blowing up our only way out of that Hydra base? Or
Stark, what about the time you used the stone from Loki’s sceptre to launch
your defence programme only for it to become sentient and try to destroy the
fucking human race?!”
Your voice did not remain quiet as your anger spiked and so,
taking a deep breathe, you continue. “Sure, he shouldn’t have gone in to that
room and yes, maybe there were hostages that are now dead but neither of you
had any right to attack him like that. Sam, when you returned, you had your
say, that was warranted, sure, but that was enough. It was over. Screaming at
him now has been nothing but cruel and you know it” Glancing at Steve, you see him falter, his usual Captain America
demeanour slipping to give way to the anger he felt from seeing his best friend
berated that way.
The two men stood in the room in silence, neither of them
able to argue with what you said and you saw the guilt wash over them. You were
right, after all. They had made worse mistakes and shouldn’t have shouted at
Bucky the way they did. Seemingly sharing the same sentiment, the pair of them
looked over to the elevator through which Bucky had left but Steve spoke up
“Don’t. The last thing he wants it to have you two turn up at his door. Just
give him time to cool down, he’ll be fine” but the sadness on Bucky’s behalf stayed
in your heart.
Everyone knew how he viewed himself now that he’d broken through Hydra’s brainwashing. Everyone knew how he loathed what he’d done and was constantly berating himself for every little mistake he made throughout the day. And you couldn’t blame him. He was hurt. And the last thing he needed was for his team members to lose their temper.
Over time, the two of you became closer. Bucky viewed you as a friend, someone besides Steve that he could talk to without fear of judgement and you were more than happy to comply. Getting to know him, you started to see traces of the old Bucky, the Bucky that Steve would tell you about, and it always warmed your heart whenever you saw him genuinely smile or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed because just for a moment, he didn’t look so broken.
The sound of his scream from last night ringed in your ears and no matter what you did, the thought of how rough Bucky’s day had been going
was gnawing away at you. With a huff, you step back from the punching bag you’d
been pounding for the past hour and half and begin to unwrap your knuckles, making
your way to your room and in to the shower.
Walking out of the now steam filled shower, you had a new found spring in your step as an idea had formed in the back of your mind. Quickly removing
the towel you’d wrapped around yourself, you get changed and head out to find
After having searched the common room, training room and lab,
you come to his bedroom and knock on his door. His voice beckons you in and you
find him seated at a desk, seemingly drawing in his journal. He did that often,
it helped him relax after stressful missions or Bucky’s particularly bad episodes.
He looked up with a smile “Hey what’s up?” he asks,
gesturing to you to come take a seat on the edge of his bed. It was now or
never. “Hey, Stevie, I’ve got a question. What do you remember most from
Christmases with Bucky?”
He woke up with a jolt, panting, a thin sheen of sweat
covering his torso. Taking deep breathes to slow down his pounding heart, he actively took notice of the fact
that his throat wasn’t burning and raw. He hadn’t woken up screaming like the
night before. Kicking off his sheets he swings his legs over the side of the
bed and pauses for a moment before getting up and making his way down the hall.
Bucky often wandered around the tower to calm himself down
after night terrors. He thought he’d been getting better. Sure, he still had
nightmares that woke him up most nights but they weren’t as bad as they were when he first came
to the Avengers. Or at least, they weren’t until last night. Last night the terror came back with a vengeance. The images behind his closed eyelids looked
crisper, the screams louder, the blood thicker and the orders to kill were heard as
clear as day.
As the elevator descended, a warm, inviting smell invaded
his senses, confusing him as he wondered who would be up at this hour. The doors opened and Bucky was left speechless as he took a step forward. There, in the
common room of the Avengers tower, was a large pine tree softly illuminated by
the fairy lights that intertwined the branches, the lights making the
scattering of baubles glisten and cast reflections of light over the walls.
There was a soft glow encompassing the room because of the
various candles that were spread around on different surfaces, giving
everything a warm yellow tinge. A quiet clatter breaks his reverie and his eyes
fall upon the figure standing in an apron, a spot of flour on her cheek, placing something on the counter.
You always hated the fact the elevator was silent, it meant
you never heard anyone come in which you found unnerving. And tonight was no
different. You only realised Bucky was standing there when you took the
Christmas pudding off the hob and turned to put it on the counter beside the plate you’d set out. Looking
up, you see him standing, rooted to the spot and panic. You weren’t ready. You were planning on setting everything up and going to wake him up and bring him down but here he was. “Waitwaitwait!”
you squeaked before rushing to the record player, placing the needle on to the
record and allowing the soft notes to fill the room, soon accompanied by the smooth vocals of none other than Bing Crosby as the original White
Christmas began to play and you could have sworn you saw the soldier’s his
eyes light up.
“What is all this?” his voice was barely above a whisper and
you couldn’t help but notice the child-like awe he held in his features as his
eyes wandered around the room again, almost like he was still trying to convince
himself it was real. You speak softly “Well you weren’t having such a great day
and I thought since we’ve got that mission next week… and we’ll be missing
Christmas…” your voice fades as you gesture to the room in a pathetic attempt
to explain it all. But his endearing expression doesn’t falter.
He’s silent. You step out from behind the counter, biting
your lower lip, watching him anxiously. And in an instant, his arms are wrapped
around you in a warm embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck and the
sudden action pulls a gasp out of you, taking you a second to register it
before you wrap your arms around his back, a smile breaking across your features. He remains silent a moment longer, pulling you
closer. If it wasn’t for the close proximity, you wouldn’t have heard the soft
whisper. “Thank you” and you feel it more than hear it, his breathe hitting your
neck, his lips brushing against your skin.
Bucky’s arms wrap around you even tighter and he simply
holds you. You’re unsure of whether minutes have passed or mere seconds before
he lets go of you but the needle of the record player lifts up, indicating the
end of the song. And then something strange happens. Bucky turns abruptly and
practically runs to the elevator. Your arms are still outstretched slightly
from where he was standing before he just up and left. Stunned, you stand frozen in your spot for a while, trying to
process what’s happened. What in the
world was that? But your train of thought is interrupted soon after by the flashing light
indicating to you that the elevator is coming back down to your floor. You wait with
The doors slide open and Bucky practically pulls Steve out
in to the common room “Bucky, why in the world are you bringing me down at 2 in
the mo…” his gruff, sleep ridden voice fades as he looks around the room.
Inhaling deeply, he turns to you wide eyed and with the same child-like glee that was shining in Bucky’s eyes just moments ago. Bucky turns to his childhood friend, “Isn’t this just
like-” “Yeah… Just like home” Steve’s voice is soft, nothing like the
Captain America voice you heard him use so often and your heart melts when you
see the gratitude in the men’s eyes.
In the darkness, the smell of machinery, along with some distant voice could be heard. Not too far from Wilson was the bobbing of a torchlight, not seeming to be getting closer. (@fear-and-robotics)
@fear-and-robotics At first, he thought the light was merely a hallucination. It didn’t seem like the other lights Wilson could see in the distance. It more resembled the light of a torch. And, if Wilson strained hard enough, he could hear… Something. That, too, was dismissed as just hallucinations. The bitter smell of metal had seemed to be a figment of Wilson’s imagination at first. It was all very common for Wilson- for him to think he saw or heard something. But, as he collected his thoughts and waited, nothing changed. It was odd. If it was a hallucination, it would have just faded after focusing on it for long enough. Was there… Something else in the ruins? Could it be someone coming to save him?
This is Darren Wilson’s neck. They’re trying to pass this off as a bruise. The thing is, it’s not. This is a birthmark called Naevus flammeus nuchae, or stork mark. My father has one, my uncle has one, my cousin has one. They’re actually quite common.