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Bucky had laughed at first.
The purple beam had washed over him and he'd resigned himself to his fate, but after the light had passed he was still standing. No broken bones, no painful lacerations, no insides on his outsides. Everything seemed normal, and then he had turned and saw Steve.
And laughed.
Steve had lost a good six inches of height and half his weight. He was swamped in his Captain America uniform and struggling to keep hold of the shield. The look on his face was the same though, the same look that Bucky had seen in the back of an alley when they were six.
“Sam, cover Cap. He’s gone pipsqueak,” Bucky ordered as he shifted to face off against the wizard behind this mess.
He’d have to disable instead of kill, which made his job harder, just in case this wasn’t something that wore off. He didn’t want to find out that all of Steve’s ailments came along with this reversal and not have a backup plan of magic.
“On it,” Sam confirmed as he swooped closer. “You still feel all sprightly or did your old age catch up with you?”
Steve swore up a storm on the comms as he tried to charge forward and struggled with his too-long pants tangling up his steps.
Bucky laughed, and so did Sam. “I’m fine,” he said, grinning as he ducked below another bolt of light. That one was a sickly green, and he almost didn’t make it. His body was slow, muscles protesting the movements he’d already made in this fight.
He’d lost the serum too, then. He grimaced and hoped he remembered how not-fast and not-strong he used to be.
But he still had his aim, serum or not, and he threw a knife as the wizard prepared another incantation. The man ducked and Bucky darted forward - feeling like he was jogging instead of sprinting full out. He was too slow, the wizard turning toward him, but Sam covered him with fire power and the shield whistled past Bucky’s head. The wizard’s barrier stopped Sam’s bullets but the shield required a dodge, and that’s when Bucky tackled him.
Wizard pinned and dangerous hands bound, Bucky sat back and tried to catch his breath. His blood was pounding, body aching. The wizard had kept them all hopping, and now he could feel it.
“I hate this,” Steve snarled, his cowl ripped back and hair mussed.
Bucky kept silent as he clenched his metal fist, feeling the weight. Tony had lightened Hydra’s weight, but now it dragged at him again and pulled his focus.
He wiped the scowl off of his face as Steve stomped up to him.
Bucky was fine - normal - though he wasn’t sure he knew what that even meant anymore.
Sam didn’t bother to hide his smile. “This’ll be interesting. All that rage and righteousness now compacted. I’ll take Dumbledore here if you’re sure you can handle this guy.” He jerked his head towards Steve.
“Just like the old days.” Bucky grinned in the face of Steve’s glare.
Exactly like the old days. Serum or no serum, that look hadn’t changed a bit.
“You two aren’t helping.”
“On the contrary, I’m doing my job,” Sam teased as he frog-marched the wizard over to where the agents of new-SHIELD were waiting.
There would be custody of some kind. Bucky didn’t care as long as the wizard was far enough not to cause more trouble but close enough to question. He rolled his left shoulder, feeling the stretch. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Hydra’s version would’ve dragged him right to the ground in this state, since not even the serum had been enough to mask that pain. He’d functioned, and that was all Hydra had required.
With Tony’s improvements, there’d been no pain. He wasn’t thrilled about it returning, though he told himself to be more grateful. Tony had lightened the arm enough that he could manage without the serum. He’d dealt with this pain before. He would be fine.
“You’re lucky,” Steve griped as he trailed Bucky back to the QuinJet.
Normally Bucky would regret not getting to see more of New Orleans. For all he traveled as an Avenger, they rarely got to stop and take in the sights but this time he was glad to trudge back to the QuinJet and head straight home. Damn wizards and magic. Give him robots and science inventions gone wrong any day of the week. He could already hear what Tony would have to say about this.
“Yeah, guess so.” Bucky shrugged. “No serum, huh? Guess you’ll be able to remember what a punch to the face feels like, now.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”
“It will be.” Bucky jostled Steve’s shoulder, and it was deja vu with Steve smaller than him again.
“Your arm giving you any trouble?”
“Not a bit.” Bucky shrugged, pasting a half-grin on his face. “Might not be solo flipping any tanks though.”
Steve huffed and Bucky laughed again.
Tony cackled when Steve walked out of the QuinJet.
“Save all the pictures for the record books, J. I want to remember this forever.”
Steve scowled, arms crossed. He was still swimming in his uniform, though pant legs and arm sleeves had been rolled back for mobility. His look wasn’t as intimidating as when he was over six foot with shoulders to match, but Tony’s laughter dropped off into a soft smile anyway.
“Relax, Cap,” he insisted. “Part of the process. Remember when I got hit by that curse that meant I could only talk in Pig Latin for a week?”
“That’s different, you enjoyed that.”
“Those board meetings were the best. They were kicking me out after two minutes,” Tony agreed.
“Ixnay on the erumsay,” Bucky tossed out in explanation as he headed for the living room. He was going to crash on the couch and not move for the rest of the night.
Dealing with a bristling Steve the entire ride back had drained him and old instincts resurfaced. Panic surged, sharp at the back of his throat, every time Steve’s breathing shifted from its natural rhythm. How had he forgotten the amount of energy fear took?
“You too?” Tony asked, gaze landing heavily on Bucky, and he frowned like Bucky was the one in need of concern. “How’s the arm?”
“Fine,” Bucky replied gruffly, not able to snap at Tony the way he did at Steve and Sam when they’d prodded. “Thanks to your re-haul. Light enough for regular people.”
Tony hummed in thought and trailed Bucky back inside, though he tossed humored glances at Steve over his shoulder. “No, I know the numbers, and yours is still heavier. We should remove it before you strain something.”
Bucky’s shoulders dropped along with the rest of his energy. The thought of an empty space for a left arm put his teeth on edge. No serum and no arm? Losing the serum was an adjustment, a downgrade. Losing the arm meant an entire shift of thinking, of moving, of being. Hydra had removed the arm during their own improvements or sometimes as punishment, but he always got it back. Above all he needed to be useful.
What use was he to the team now?
“Hey, you sure you’re okay?” Tony rested a light hand on his arm.
Bucky wiped away the thoughts and gave him a quick grin. “Fine, just tired.”
Tony snorted. “I bet. No super serumed energizer bunnies. Welcome to the club, at least us regular people have coffee.”
“You call yourself a regular person?” Bucky shook his head and managed a smile. “Don’t think that yardstick is going to measure up to the rest of us, serum or not.” When Tony preened, Bucky’s smile came easier. “You sure we have to take off the arm now?”
Bucky tried to sound neutral, but Tony eyed him and shook his head. He had hope for a moment that meant the removal wasn’t necessary before Tony dashed it.
“Tomorrow is soon enough. Let’s get you rested and refueled before your crash course in what us regular people call pain and exhaustion.”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. ‘I don’t sleep for three days.’” Bucky snorted. “But tomorrow sounds good.” He didn’t have the energy to fight, not when Tony thought science was on his side. “Food now?”
His desire was obvious, and Tony rewarded him with a grin.
“Food now, Terminator. Come on, come on, while it’s still hot.”
Bucky let Tony steer him to the living room where containers of food were piled onto the side and end tables. Bucky swiped up a box of noodles that looked like it had enough meat to satisfy and curled into a corner of the couch.
Tony took the cushion next to him, another container in hand. There was a careful few inches between them, but Bucky hoped that space would disappear as the evening went on.
Bucky barely acknowledged Steve stomping in, face buried in beef and noodles. When he looked up, Steve was curled up in an armchair and picking at his food.
At least Steve had changed out of the uniform, though his clothes still swamped his small frame.
Bruce trudged in, rubbing his head. “Preliminary results of the bloodwork came back okay.”
“Told you,” Steve sniped.
“I’ll need to run more tests.” Bruce sighed. “We’ll want to stay ahead of illnesses, because your immune system is a bit…” He wiggled his hand.
“Shrunken?” Tony said, his lips curling up at the edges. “On the short end of the stick?”
“You can do better than that,” Sam said from the other side of Tony. “Those are weak.”
“Enough,” Steve snapped. “I survived the thirties, you don’t think I can survive the modern era with all the new medicine? Please.”
“Not since you’re used to throwing yourself at things first and wondering if they’ll kill you later,” Bucky said, side-eying Steve. “Attitude. Number one problem.”
Tony cackled as Steve glared, but Bucky was used to that look.
“Everyone is so worried about me, but what about you? You’re missing the serum too. Why aren’t you running tests on him?”
Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve’s attempt to throw him under the bus. “I didn’t have a list of illnesses a page long before the serum, did I? I’m fine, just no fancy speed or strength.”
Steve pouted.
“Come on, eat up,” Sam told Steve, “…short stack.”
Bucky laughed.
Bucky wasn’t laughing the next morning. Instead he was hissing as he rolled out of bed. His left side ached, skin hot to the touch. His left shoulder hurt too, and so did his neck. Maybe Tony was right about getting the arm off.
But he was used to pain and was only going to get more familiar without the healing, so Bucky went to the gym first. Without the serum giving him enhanced strength and speed, he would have to keep on top of that himself. He pushed himself until he was dripping with sweat, and it was still a fraction of what the serum usually allowed. He kept going until his muscles were liquid and he was stumbling on his way to clean up.
He’d done it, though. With a left arm, he knew what he could do. What he could still be for the team.
Showered, dressed, and fed, Bucky headed for the lab. He brought a cup of coffee in offering, and was greeted with Tony’s brilliant smile.
“You know, I’m almost sad you’re not a shrimpy little thing that we can tease.”
“Careful,” Bucky warned, “or you don’t get the coffee.”
Tony mimed zipping his lips, and Bucky rolled his eyes but handed over the cup.
“Guess it means you worked hard for those muscles,” Tony said as he poked Bucky’s bicep. He kept the coffee cup out of easy reach so Bucky couldn’t snatch it back.
“Damn right I did.” Bucky threw himself onto the stool next to where Tony was working. He liked to think of it as his spot, close enough he didn’t have to raise his voice for Tony to hear him, but not so close as to get in Tony’s way. “And you can go back to what you’re doing, the arm can wait.”
Tony hummed as he sipped at the coffee. “Nah, let’s get you taken care of. Any pain so far from it?”
Bucky shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“So in super soldier speak, that’s a yes.”
“Can’t call me that anymore, can you?”
“Aw, don’t worry Bucky-bear, you’ll always be my super soldier,” Tony teased.
Bucky ducked his head. “Where do you want me, then?”
“Isn’t that a delightful question?” Tony’s voice was wickedly sultry, and Bucky glared to hide his fluster. “Chair over here, please. Puts me on top, and you know I love that.”
“You’re a menace,” Bucky grumbled but moved to where Tony wanted him.
“Every day and twice on Sundays.”
Bucky huffed but settled into the chair, laying himself out for Tony.
Tony dove in and began poking, giving a murmured warning before turning off the input sensors. Bucky breathed through the loss, thinking about batting averages and homerun records before he could accept that there was no sensation from his left arm. He’d been without it before, he was fine, and this switch to emptiness was gentle compared to Hydra. It shouldn’t throw him for a loop.
Even if Tony didn’t have a second, lighter arm ready to go like the last time they’d done this. Of course not - Tony had slept last night, taking care of himself like he should, not staying up all night creating something that Bucky didn’t need.
He focused on keeping his breathing slow and deep, meditating through the session. In what seemed like hardly anytime at all, Tony was detaching the arm and setting it aside. Somehow the loss weighed him down.
“Mind if I take a look here? Don’t want to miss signs of an infection that won’t heal as quick right now.”
Bucky’s head buzzed, but the words were easy. “I’m all yours.”
“Music to my ears, Buckaroo.”
Tony evaluated his stump of an arm, sharp eyes taking in everything. He swallowed, sweat pooling at the base of his spine. He kept himself still for the inspection, refused to let his muscles so much as twitch. He barely dared to breathe as Tony’s intense focus took in his body and he waited for judgement.
“Looking good,” Tony said as gently felt along the shoulder. “Doesn’t feel too warm, but be careful and say something if it starts feeling weird.”
Bucky nodded, lightheaded, as Tony settled a cap over the stump to protect the skin.
“Good.” Tony grinned. “Looks like you’re all set, then. You’re easy, I can put together a prototype arm for you that won’t need to hold up to the serum, if you feel up to a few missions. Steve’s the trouble, I need to figure out a way to cover him in bullet-proof material that isn’t too heavy for him to move in.”
Bucky’s next breath was easier. Another arm, and more missions. That’s all he needed. “Or you dump the full gear on him so he can’t move and we leave him here.”
Tony laughed. “I can do that easily enough.”
“Something to think about. Better we don’t let him even sniff danger or he’ll go chasing after it.”
“How well do you think that’ll work?”
Bucky sighed. “Not at all. Back-up uniform might be worth it. Suit of armor would be better.”
“Look at that, already got a prototype,” Tony drawled as he glanced at his Iron Man armor.
Bucky snorted and told himself he wouldn’t be jealous if Steve got to wear something like the Iron Man suit. Bucky didn’t even want one, not really, since it wouldn’t suit his fighting style.
Still, his stomach twisted.
“That might just do it,” Bucky agreed, firmly ignoring his queasy body.
He had things to focus on that wasn’t Steve in Tony’s armor. Things like missions, where he could be useful, as long as he relearned how to move without the serum enhancements. He couldn’t jump as far or run as fast. He needed drills, more practical applications than what he’d been doing with the weights this morning.
“If you need me I’ll be in the simulation room.”
Tony nodded, gaze knowing. “Good luck. J will keep an eye out, make sure you don’t strain yourself.”
“I’ve been without the serum before, I can handle it,” Bucky said, but he felt warm at the idea that Tony was looking out for him.
Because that’s what it meant. If JARVIS was watching, so was Tony.
“Been a few decades, so take it easy old man,” Tony teased. “Let me tell you from one old guy to another that throwing your back out sucks without enhanced healing.”
“You’re not old,” Bucky insisted.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Tell it to someone who doesn’t have to count gray hairs in the mirror. Be gone, whippersnapper.”
Bucky huffed but headed to the simulation room.
Sore and aching, Bucky collapsed onto his chair at dinner. He was freshly showered, again. His body was angry at the paces he’d put through it today, and he was rapidly getting over the novelty of the muscle aches. He missed his healing factor. His side burned, and the skin was hot to the touch.
At least he still had his accuracy and precision. He still had his skills. The serum didn’t take everything from him.
“Whoa, what happened to you?”
Bucky flipped Clint off rather than explain.
“Apparently that’s what a super soldier workout does to a normal human body,” Natasha commented dryly.
Sam laughed. “Yeah, you can miss me with that bullshit.”
“Same here,” Clint agreed. “Though watching Steve try his usual routine would be hilarious.”
“Ha ha.” Steve’s glare ruined the pout. “Very funny.”
“Viral video, just saying.” Clint raised his hands in defense.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, that sounds like a fantastic plan, letting all our enemies know that Captain America is out of commission.”
“I’m not ‘out of commission,’” Steve snarled. “I’m just -”
“Sidelined, until further notice,” Tony said as he swanned into the room. “I hid your shield.”
“Hey!”
“Call it a precaution.” Tony beamed at Steve. “No heroics from you.”
“Is Bucky sidelined?” Steve cast a quick glance at Bucky but kept most of his glare for Tony.
Tony was looking to Bucky though, eyebrows raised in question.
“No,” Bucky said firmly. “I’m fine. Check my stats if you want proof.”
Tony nodded in acceptance. “Sounds good to me.”
Something like victory speared through him, hot and sharp. He fought the smirk that wanted to spread on his face, not wanting to rub it in Steve’s face. Tony and the team had taken him at his word and he hadn’t had to prove himself. His shoulders went back, his chin up, and pain twinged up his side. He held still, the warmth sinking into a heated guilty mess.
He’d said he could keep up, so he would. He had no other choice now.
“I can still help,” Steve said. “I’m not useless!”
“No one said you’re useless,” Natasha tempered. “But you are likely to get yourself killed if you go out into the field. You’d do the same to any of us if our fighting styles were shaken up like this.”
Steve continued arguing his case, and Bucky kept his head down. His hand drifted to his side, feeling the edges of the ache. He pressed, his touch light, but pain lanced up to stab him in the neck. Stomach heaving, he took careful sips of air as his mind spun in circles.
He was fine, he was fine, he was fine. He could not, would not pass out. He’d told everyone that they could count on him. He was fine.
“You okay?” Sam asked quietly as he bumped Bucky’s shoulder.
His brain whited out, and he clenched his fist to keep from trembling. He didn’t dare look at Sam, knowing that would give him away.
“Fine,” he bit out. He leaned over the table and his plate, as if food was the answer to his problem. “Just weird to feel a workout this long.”
His fingers trembled as he reached for his fork, so he made himself snatch it. Curled around the utensil, his shakiness was nearly invisible. He stabbed a vegetable and pretended it was fury that drove the blow.
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, must be real terrible.”
“No wonder you’re so slow if this is how you feel.” Nausea threatened and he didn’t dare bring the fork to his mouth, but he could trade quips with Sam when he was dead.
“Oh no, I’m not taking that. Tomorrow morning, me and you, we’re going for a run and seeing just how long you last.”
Bucky groaned theatrically for Sam’s benefit, but the dread was incredibly real.
The next morning, Bucky collapsed onto Tony’s couch in the workshop. He barely had the breath to wheeze, let alone laugh at his fate.
Running had only been fun when Bucky was able to sprint circles around Sam. Today he’d loped along in an unbalanced gait, too tired to correct for the unevenness to his body. Even then, he’d been gasping for air long before Sam had circled back to the Tower. Sam hadn’t bragged enough, his gaze resting a beat too long on the absence of the arm, and Bucky had darted for the workshop before the pity became too much.
That and Steve’s pouting, since Steve couldn’t run and Steve liked running.
“Sam is never going to let you live this down.”
Bucky pasted a pout on his face, as if it was only losing to Sam that required his hiding. At least DUM-E didn’t judge, zooming up with a ball in his claw. Bucky accepted the gift and tossed across the room, letting the bot zip off again. Something they could both do, each with their one arm.
DUM-E figured it out, and so could Bucky. Maybe he needed a skateboard, or something with wheels?
“Yeah, I know.” Bucky felt bad brushing him off, but Tony only chuckled and went back to his work while Bucky continued to play fetch with DUM-E.
He wanted to ask about a new arm, but he held back. Tony was a busy man, and it was never more apparent than when Tony was in the zone in the workshop. There was music playing, a project in front of him, and JARVIS had a blistering amount of notifications displayed on the screen that made Bucky’s eyes water.
When he stretched his neck to get a peek, he saw the metal case of what might be an arm and his heart soared. But no, the display in front of Tony had a full body outline. A suit of armor then, or something like it, for someone small and skinny. Someone not able to stay out of a fight if his life depended on it.
Bucky couldn’t fault that. Steve would get himself into scrapes regardless, and it was good to prioritize him. Steve was the most at risk. Bucky could be patient, and he could train and fight without a left arm for the time being.
His eyelids grew heavy and he knew he should move - get off the couch, do another round in the simulation room - but he gave himself another few minutes before he’d get up and go train. Just a moment of rest.
He fell asleep.
When he woke up, the lights were dim and there was a blanket draped over him.
He never knew bodies could do such a terrible job at healing. No matter how many layers he put on, he was wracked by chills - every part of him freezing except for his ribs that continued to burn. He worked out harder to warm himself up, but compensating for his serum-less senses took all of his focus. Masking his weaknesses became a bigger job than being an Avenger. He appreciated Sam, Clint, Natasha, and Tony even more for doing this without the serum healing their injuries.
No wonder no one wanted to age - this was awful. He felt like he was dying every time he had to roll out of bed.
“You look like shit,” Natasha said as she set a cup of coffee in front of him.
Bucky wasn’t sure why he’d even wasted the energy dragging himself down to breakfast. The last thing he wanted was food, and coffee wasn’t worth the trip. But he was here, so he nodded his thanks and pulled the cup closer.
“Is that wizard willing to cooperate yet?” Bucky rasped.
He hated being beholden to an enemy to fix this, and of course the wizard would rather cause more destruction than reverse his spell.
“Not yet.” Natasha patted his shoulder.
“I’ve gotten in touch with a Dr. Strange, who is just as strange as that sounds,” Tony said as he stood by the coffee maker. He sipped from his mug. “Apparently he’s traversing some alternate dimension and we have to wait for him to get back. The people he works with aren’t willing to even sneeze at you unless this guy is over their shoulder, or something.”
“I don’t want them to sneeze at me,” Bucky huffed.
Tony shrugged. “Best I can do for you, Snowflake.”
Bucky grumbled into his coffee cup.
“You know even Steve looks better than you,” Clint said. “And if I had to pick one of you who would be wasting away after a few days with no serum I’d have picked him.”
Shame and embarrassment roiled in Bucky’s stomach, but he forced himself to keep sipping at his coffee and ignore Clint. Though Clint was right - Bucky should be fine without the serum, but it was Steve who had energy to spare, stomping up and down the hallways and ranting about how he didn’t get to do anything fun anymore.
He still hadn’t found the shield that Tony had hidden.
Bucky felt the eyes on him, but he didn’t have a reason for why his body wasn’t adjusting. He glanced up at Tony, but the concerned frown was too much and he ducked his head again.
Natasha redirected the conversation to what SHIELD was doing to make the wizard regret not being cooperative. Bucky kept silent, keeping to his coffee, and as Tony poured him a refill he asked Bucky to come down to the workshop when he was done.
Food had gone from uninteresting to nauseating, so Bucky was glad to push away from the table and follow Tony. So much of his brain power went into not wincing with every step and keeping pace with Tony’s determined stride, that he didn’t think about what Tony wanted with him.
“Have a seat,” Tony said as he shoved a wheeled stool over to Bucky. “Let’s run some tests.”
Relief swamped his brain as he collapsed onto the seat, and he couldn’t figure out what Tony meant. “What?”
“Clint has a point, though don’t ever tell him I said that. You shouldn’t be wasting away without the serum.”
Bucky looked away and shrugged.
“Which means,” Tony pointed at him, “that something is wrong, and we’re going to find out what. JARVIS, do your thing.”
“Maybe I’m just -”
“Going to sit there and be quiet while we run some tests? Yes, you are.”
Bucky frowned, realizing that Tony was in a suit and tie which meant - “Aren’t you supposed to be at SI right now?” He bit his lip, pleased that Tony cared enough to pause his work, but guilt swam in his stomach. He shouldn’t be disrupting Tony with his problems. He shouldn’t be having problems.
“Sh, no talking.” Tony’s gaze darted around the screen of results that JARVIS was displaying.
“I don’t want Pepper to kill me in my sleep.”
“J will protect you. This is important. You’re - shit.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” Bucky drawled as he tried to find a way to hold himself that would make his body hurt less.
“James Buchanan Barnes.” Tony sounded angry, but he marched away from Bucky to a far corner of the workshop. “Of all the stupid brained, ridiculous macho things to fucking do -”
“What? What is it?” Alarm rang in Bucky’s chest as he watched Tony mutter and dig around in a cabinet, his breath coming short.
“You’re fucking dying and didn’t think to mention it?”
“I’m dying?” Bucky startled and almost fell off his chair. “What?”
“Hey DUM-E, remember those smoothies? No, never mind, let’s not poison the guy any worse. I’ll handle it. If you had said something!” Tony stomped back over to Bucky, his fist clenched on a syringe. “Here, this will help.” He yanked up Bucky’s shirt, and Bucky hissed as it twisted him in just the wrong way. “Hm, no road rash. That’s probably a good sign.” His hand was cool as he ran it along Bucky’s side, though Bucky winced at the light pressure. “Yeah, okay, you’re not on death’s door yet but we could’ve done something about this earlier if you’d mentioned the whole metal poisoning thing.”
There was the prick of a needle in Bucky’s side and then the hiss of an injection. Tony pulled back, and Bucky tugged his shirt down even as Tony continued to stare at the spot.
“Metal - oh, right.” Hydra had braced some of his ribs with metal to fix the damage the fall had taken. “I forgot.”
This wasn’t normal pain from fighting or training. He’d known that, maybe, but hadn’t been able to say anything. He was supposed to be fine without the serum, supposed to be a normal human.
But he was being poisoned.
It was almost a relief. It wasn’t because he wasn’t strong enough, capable enough. And now Tony knew and could take care of it, and Bucky hadn’t had to say anything at all.
“So did I.” Tony sighed, his gaze sad. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” It was all his, but that didn’t matter anymore because the burn in his side was cooling. His shoulders eased, the tension draining. “What did you give me?”
“Lithium dioxide. It’ll bind up some of the metal floating in your body and clear it out. Not a fix, but it’ll ease the pain.”
“Thanks. I guess it’s a good thing you just happen to have that on hand.” Relief bubbled in his chest and he laughed, just a bit.
“Had an altercation with metal poisoning myself awhile back.” Tony drummed his fingers on the arc reactor.
Fear washed over the sweet relief as he stared at the arc reactor embedded in Tony’s chest. He’d never given it a second thought, how deep and penetrating that metal went.
His gaze flicked to Tony’s. “You’re okay?” he demanded.
“I’m fine,” Tony said with a small grin. “Discovered a new element, all in all a good day for science. You were just dying and not saying anything!”
“I’m fine,” Bucky protested automatically, the words small in his mouth.
“Being poisoned and in pain is not fine,” Tony spat. “Don’t be a fucking martyr and say something next time.”
Bucky lurched to his feet. “I wasn’t. I was -”
He hadn’t wanted to think about it, was all. Hadn’t wanted to be a problem.
“Handling it?” Tony stepped into Bucky’s face. “News flash, you were dying. Being poisoned. The longer it went on, the more your body would shut down. Nausea, chills, lungs can’t breathe and your brain can’t think. Sounds fun to ride that out in silence, doesn’t it?”
This was the fanfare he’d wanted to avoid. He grit his teeth and tried to step around Tony, but Tony moved with him and poked him in the chest.
“You’re going to go rest, and then I’ll find you with food and another injection because guess what, Barnes, you aren’t allowed to die on my watch. Couch, now.”
“More comfortable in my bed.” He forced the words out, throat thick. Let him be alone to lick his wounds, to heal and recover now that there was a cause and a cure.
“Couch, where I can keep an eye on you.”
His eyes burned, and he turned away to hide them. Tony took it as acquiescence and herded him to the couch, and Bucky went. He hated fighting with Tony, and he didn’t even want to. Not really. But Tony was supposed to be at SI, had a ton of important things to do that weren’t ‘take care of Bucky,’ and so he made himself say, “You don’t have to -”
“I really do. I should’ve known about the ribs, about the metal. The serum must be constantly healing you, but since you don’t have that right now you get me. Sit.” Tony shoved Bucky onto the couch and tossed a blanket over his head.
“It’s not your fault,” Bucky protested as he clawed out from under the blanket. “You don’t have to-”
“I don’t have to, but I’m doing it. You’re going to stay right there, where I and J and DUM-E can watch you, and I’m going to make you smoothie. It’s going to taste awful, but you’re going to drink it down because it’ll help.”
“You don’t -”
“No, no, none of that. The only words I want to hear out of you are yes, Supreme Overlord, I will do as you say.”
Bucky let out a small laugh. It couldn’t be that bad, then, if Tony was making jokes. And if Tony wanted to make the smoothie, and keep Bucky on the couch, and look at him with those warm eyes and kind smile, then who was Bucky to stop him?
“Yes, Supreme Overlord, I will do as you say.”
“Look at that, he can learn.” Tony’s grin was broad and he reached out, as if he was going to brush Bucky’s hair, but then he cleared his throat and pulled back. “DUM-E? Watch him, make sure he doesn’t move from that couch. J, pull that recipe up for me again, will you?”
DUM-E zoomed over to him with concerned chirping, and Bucky fought a smile. “Hey now, don’t be worried,” he said quietly. “I’ll be okay.” With a low whistle, DUM-E tugged the blanket so that it covered Bucky’s feet. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I see how it is. You accept the care and concern from my bot but not from me.”
“I’m on the couch!”
“Those aren’t the words I want to hear, are they?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, Supreme Overlord, I will do as you say. Such as staying on this couch and keeping my mouth shut. And not appreciating DUM-E’s help.”
“Sass, sass, sass, that’s all I ever get.”
“It’s all you deserve.” Bucky managed a half grin.
Tony pretended to gasp in offense. “Me? Deserve? Just for that I’m making you drink two smoothies.”
“How terrible.”
“You have no idea.”
Bucky hummed, settling on the couch. He wasn’t sure how long he drifted off, but the next thing he knew Tony was gently shaking him awake.
Tony had lost the jacket and tie, his shirt unbuttoned and sleeves pushed up. It was a good image, and Bucky stared at Tony’s exposed forearms for a moment before he realized Tony was trying to coax him into sitting up.
Groaning, Bucky moved as directed. Tony offered him a cup, and he took it with a grimace. The ‘smoothie’ was a dark, unpleasant green and smelled like rotten leaves.
“I have to drink this?”
“By order of your Supreme Overload. It’ll help, I promise.”
The words were kind and sympathetic, and Bucky didn’t want to think about how many smoothies Tony had had to drink. It wasn’t like he could remove the arc reactor from his chest or have the serum heal whatever damage had been created.
Bucky hated magic, now more than ever. If he had the serum back, he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Wouldn’t have to drink this concoction. Wouldn’t have had to deal with being poisoned.
Tony patted his knee. “Come on, it’s not so bad. Drink up.”
He downed it, wincing at the taste. He gagged when he finished, the aftertaste of grass and sludge in his mouth, but Tony was right there with a glass of water. Bucky downed that too, grateful for how it washed the taste out of his mouth.
The stress lines on Tony’s face eased, and Bucky felt his guilt prick at him for causing them in the first place.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You’re especially welcome for not making you drink a second one for that sass, remember that?”
Bucky shook his head, a smile on his face.
“No? Don’t make me test your memory, you won’t enjoy the experience.”
“I’m fine.”
Tony scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. ‘I’m fine, only dying of metal poisoning over here.’ We should’ve been watching you as closely as we watched Steve. That’s all our fault, mine and the team’s, so let me say I’m sorry. I’m sorry we weren’t watching, I’m sorry we didn’t notice. I won’t let you fool us next time.” A dark stain on his palm stole Tony’s attention, methodically he worked his thumb over it. “But maybe don’t work so hard trying to cover up?” Tony’s eyes flicked up at him.
Bucky didn’t have the words to protest, but he tried anyway. “I’m not -”
“What? Important?” Tony rolled right over him, forthright and sincere. “With or without the serum, you belong -” Tony hesitated, “-here. This is your home, we are your team, whether you ever walk out onto another battlefield or not. Whether or not you ever lift a gun again or toss a knife at a bad guy. You don’t have to be useful to be needed.”
That gaze bore through him, pierced right to his core, and Bucky couldn’t look away.
“You could give Steve a run for his money on the speech thing.”
Tony ducked his head, and Bucky regretted the comment. Shrugging, Tony stared at the couch next to Bucky’s head. “I know what it is to think you have something to prove.”
Bucky frowned, peering at Tony. “What do you -”
“Rest,” Tony cut him off, picking up the empty glasses and backing away from Bucky and the couch. “Doctor’s orders, and yes, my hoard of doctorates means I qualify, don’t backtalk me. Rest, sleep. Recover, heal, all that good stuff. J will be monitoring your vitals.”
JARVIS would be watching him, and so would Tony.
Something thick and tight rose in Bucky’s throat, but he swallowed it down. There was the old fear of being watched, being tracked. This was different, this was being seen, and it scared him even as he welcomed it.
JARVIS and Tony would watch over him, and he could rest. That was his only mission, handed down by his ‘Supreme Overlord,’ and he had nothing else he needed to do. Nothing else he needed to prove.
His eyelids grew heavy as he watched Tony fiddle with the cups by the sink, as Tony eventually gave up on trying to clean them and left the job to DUM-E.
His side still burned, but the fire was banked. Something soft and sweet and warm swept through him, taking away the chill, and Bucky didn’t think it was the smoothie.
Tony turned, saw him watching, and shook his finger. “Go to sleep, Snowflake, before I make you!”
Bucky didn’t have the energy for laughter, his eyes closed and sleep hovered ready to take him, but he smiled.
“Tony?” he whispered, knowing it was too soft. The workshop was a loud place of music and chaos and noise, which was part of why he loved it here.
But then Tony was there, leaning over him. “You need something?”
“Just wanted to say -” Bucky yawned. “Thanks.”
“Of course, no problem.”
Bucky snagged Tony’s hand before Tony could move or he lost his courage. He squeezed, then threaded his fingers through Tony’s and appreciated the strength and delicacy of Tony’s hands.
“Thank you,” Bucky repeated. “And you don’t have to be useful either.”
Tony cleared his throat, but squeezed back. “Get some shut-eye, Bucky bun. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Bucky didn’t pull his hand away and neither did Tony, and the steady warmth was a comfort. He slipped down, closer and closer to sleep, but he still felt the touch when Tony brushed hair from his face.
And kissed his forehead.
It wasn’t laughter but something bright and sparkling and hopeful that followed Bucky into sleep.