Light Up The Night

If Steve never ever saw another hospital waiting room, it would be far too soon. Bucky’s head felt too heavy on his shoulder, but Steve made no attempt to move. There was no need for him to disturb Bucky’s uneasy, restless slumber. By the time the three of them had reached the hospital, he could see the adrenaline rush ending with a crash – a pallor leaching the color from Bucky’s cheeks, a tremble in his hands, the slump of his shoulders. During those first few hours of waiting, every time Bucky started to drift off, something would yank him back to wakefulness. Even with Winter’s presence offering continued comfort, Bucky continued to struggle.

In the chair on the others side of him, Pepper tapped furiously on her phone. While Steve had done his best to respect her privacy, an occasional glance over revealed that she was dealing with her inbox of emails and, it seemed, the media starting to get ahold of the initial pieces of the latest Tony Stark story. Every so often, she would go up to the nurse’s desk and ask about the status of Tony’s condition. Information continued to be limited – brief comments about him being in surgery, with no specifics of what the surgery entailed.

After several failed attempts on Pepper’s behalf, Steve made the mistake of trying himself. After arguing back and forth and Steve nearly getting kicked out of the waiting room, the nursing staff pointed out that neither Pepper nor Steve were listed as family or a point of contact for Tony and therefore had no privileges regarding his confidential medical information. At that point, both Pepper gave up and just continued sifting through her phone, although once or twice she stepped out to take or make a phone call or just to compose herself; Steve honestly wasn’t certain which one or if it were all of the above.

Steve settled on trading texts with Sam, who kept them apprised of Pietro’s condition through cryptic, indirect messages in case anything was intercepted. That was about the only reassuring part of things; that whatever Pietro had been dosed with appeared to be making its way out of his system without any overly concerning effects.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that Steve didn’t know the details on Tony’s condition. The real question at this point was just how bad things were.

But then there was Wanda. Steve couldn’t get Wanda out of his head. What was happening to her? Where she was? Whether or not she was injured. How they would get her back. How they could get her back.

It then clicked that targeting and taking Tony served multiple purposes. It was genius, really. Not only did it provide Talbot direct information about where the twins were, it also left the rest of them with their hands tied. By being the one to go public, Tony made himself a target and, really, that hadn’t been the best choice. Tony was the one with the connections. Tony was the one who would have known what to do, how to proceed, who to talk to. He would have been able to get together the resources to find Wanda. Hell, he probably had a private investigator on retainer who might be able to track Wanda’s location down within 24-48 hours, tops.

Or at least that was what Steve liked to think. Because if Tony couldn’t solve a problem like this with all of his resources, then what help did they have?

Really, focusing on Wanda’s current condition and how Tony could have fixed things wasn’t fair to whatever hell Tony had gone through. He would never have let that information about the twins slip if he had any other option. Steve knew that, despite how many times he’d given Tony shit for not being trustworthy. There were lines that Tony wouldn’t cross. Something awful had been done to him to get him to give up that information.

But Steve knew that having his thoughts turn in that direction wasn’t helpful either. Which was the problem at this point; nothing seemed to be helpful. He couldn’t anything do except sit and wait and wait and wait some more in the hopes of hearing something about Tony’s condition.

It was at that moment that Pepper returned to her chair. Steve managed to find the words to ask, “Any further news on any fronts?”

Pepper shook her head. “They still won’t tell me anything. But Tony designated Rhodey as his next of kin. So I’ve contacted him. Apparently the hospital already reached him to let him know what was going on and I caught him just as he was hopping on a flight. He should be here within the next few hours.”

“Good. I’m guessing he’s stateside if he’s coming that quickly?”

Pepper nodded once more. “Unfortunately not local, obviously, but stateside. He hadn’t been told too much on the phone, so he couldn’t provide much more than we’ve already gotten, but hopefully when he arrives we’ll find out more.”

“And until then… we just keep waiting, right?” Steve said. Of course that was the answer. What else could he do at this point? What else could any of them do?

For an instant, just an instant, his fingers slipped into his pocket and brushed the side of his phone. He wanted to call Tony.

But he couldn’t this time.

They were on their own.

-~-

Darcy fidgeted in the backseat seat, fighting the urge to check her phone again, as though another message might have arrived. She caught a glimpse of Jane’s tired eyes in the rearview mirror, and could see a barely stifled yawn from Thor’s rumpled form in the passenger’s seat as Jane maneuvered the car around the corner, driving far too slow for Darcy’s needs. Then again, she was lucky enough that Jane had been willing to come and get her in the middle of the night to drive her a few blocks over.

The text she’d gotten from Clint about – she flipped back to it and checked the timestamp against the current time – exactly 40 minutes before only said, “Come to townhouse. Your friend is back in the area. Could use some support.” She’d texted back that she would be right over, then immediately realized that all public transportation was long closed for the night, and without thinking things through, had automatically dialed Jane’s number.

From the front seat, Darcy could see Thor continually glancing over his shoulder at her, as though he weren’t sure if he should say anything or ask any questions. She wouldn’t have minded if he did but given his silence, she had to figure he was planning on giving her space for the time being. Probably a good thing, given that she wasn’t certain how much Jane had already shared with him. The last thing she wanted to do was share more than she needed to with anyone not already in the know.

Of course, Thor was smart. There was a good chance he had already put the pieces together. He would have seen the press conferences with the twins and been able to identify that they were the same twins Darcy had been bringing out with her.

Instead of meeting Thor’s eyes, Darcy fiddled with her phone, locking and then immediately tapping in the code to unlock it as though she might have missed a message in the interval. No further information came and she tried to consider that a good thing. Something bad had happened. That was the only explanation for why Pietro would have been at the townhouse, rather than the safehouse. Something had happened after the interview with Tony and somehow that had led to the twins’ safety being compromised.

When Jane finally eased the car to a stop in front of Natasha’s house, Darcy leapt out, issuing a quick set of thanks and an apology for waking Jane and Thor up. Ignoring their attempts to ask questions, she waved and hurried up the steps. Her knock on the door was answered in what was probably thirty seconds or less but felt like an eternity. The door opened to reveal Natasha, standing there decked out in evening wear for some reason that Darcy couldn’t focus on long enough to question. Natasha stepped back, allowing Darcy to step inside.

Darcy barely allowed Natasha to shut the door behind her before asking, “Where is he?”

Natasha evenly answered, “In the living room” and Darcy didn’t wait to see if she would add any additional information to that before hurrying in that direction. Maybe it would have made sense to ask how bad things were, so that she could prepare herself, but as far as she was concerned, she might as well face that head on.

What she found wasn’t quite as horrible as she anticipated. At the least this time, there was no blood to be seen. Pietro was propped up on the couch, a blanket covering the majority of his body, and while his face was pale and his eyes were unfocused, he didn’t seem to be in any pain. Sam crouched beside him, his fingers at Pietro’s wrist, his gaze dark and angry. There was the sound of footsteps from the upper floor, pacing back and forth, and the faint sound of muffled speaking that Darcy thought belonged to Clint.

Darcy hesitated just inside of the doorway and softly said, “Pietro? It’s me.”

He raised his head a bit in response to her voice. “Darcy?”

“Yeah. Clint let me know you were here.” She looked to Sam, waiting until he nodded, before moving closer to take Pietro’s hand. “Are you okay?”

When Pietro didn’t immediately answer, Sam offered some clarification. “He was drugged. I have no reason to think he won’t be fine but without knowing exactly what he was given and how much, I’m monitoring his condition just to be sure we don’t need to take him to the hospital.” He scowled before adding, “Even if I still think he should have been taken to the hospital for proper monitoring to begin with.”

“As I keep saying, I don’t need a hospital,” Pietro started, but on the next words, his voice broke. “Wanda’s gone. They took her.”

“Yeah, we didn’t really get the specifics on that when the others dropped you off here. Who exactly took her? What happened?” Clint spoke, his voice startling Darcy, who hadn’t even realized he’d come downstairs.

The first thing she registered was that his cellphone was in his hand. The second was that his voice was hard and cold in a way that was, overall, unfamiliar to Darcy, who was used to the nice, easygoing Clint she worked with. Even with everything that had happened over the past several months, she’d never heard him sound quite like this.

“Clearly someone sent by my fucking father,” Pietro ground out. “I don’t know who. But they were prepared. Night vision goggles. Tranquilizers too. Obviously...” There was a pause before he added, “And… and they knew where we were. So obviously Stark told them. That fucker sold us out.”

“Stark is currently at the hospital,” Sam pointed out. Before Darcy could ask Sam to clarify that statement, he continued. “Also, Pietro, I need you to take a couple of slow, deep breaths because I felt your pulse jump and you don’t need this kinda strain on your body right now.”

“Sam’s right,” Natasha said, stepping out from the direction of the kitchen with two cups of tea in hand, one of which she placed on the coffee table, within reach of Pietro. Although Pietro made no attempt to reach for the cup, she cautioned. “This is waiting for you when you’re ready and when Sam gives the okay for fluids.”

“Which is not yet,” Sam confirmed.

Darcy squeezed Pietro’s hand. The contact appeared to be enough to help him slow and steady his breathing. Despite the fact that he appeared a bit calmer, there was a clear edge to his voice as he said, “I shouldn’t be here, sitting on my ass. I should be out there, looking for her.”

“That’s not a good idea right now. I mean, seriously, what good would that do?” Clint questioned. “How exactly would that help, kid? I get the urge but, seriously, you don’t have anything more to go on than we do. I’ve put some feelers out based on the intel I got earlier and I’ve got a line in through my contact in the police. Now it’s a matter of waiting to see what pans out. Hell, why do you think I’m not out there myself? If I thought there was any possibility of finding her faster, I would be.”

“As we wait, my sister could be getting hurt or killed or… or…” Pietro choked. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten drugged, I could have stopped her from pushing me into the panic room. Or dragged her in there with me. Then we’d both be safe or I would be with her. At least she wouldn’t be alone.”

“Which also would not help,” Natasha said, her voice firm but gentle as she took a seat in the armchair across from the couch. “Especially the latter. Then both of you would be in that situation together.”

Pietro cut her off. “At least Talbot would have me to take his anger out on, instead of her. I didn’t protect her for years just to fail her now. I can’t live with myself if he hurts her the way…the way…”

His voice broke. Darcy couldn’t bring herself to fill in the gap, although Clint clearly didn’t share her reluctantly, given that he gently inquired, “The way he hurt you, kid?”

Pietro mutely nodded. Darcy just slipped her fingers under the blankets and gently rubbed his lower arm. His skin felt alarmingly clammy to the touch. She looked over to Sam and, almost in the hopes of providing a distraction as much as she wanted an answer, asked, “Is he supposed to feel this cold?”

“Sedatives lower all body functions. This isn’t uncommon but given the length of time since he was dosed, this is a little more alarming. Makes me wonder how high a dose was in that tranquilizer. Which is, once again, why he should have been taken to the hospital to begin with.”

Pietro snarled, “No hospitals. The last thing I need is for them to find me there.”

Darcy bit back the urge to point out that just a few moments before that had been exactly what Pietro wanted. Instead, she asked, “Is that really a concern at this point? I mean, you’ve gone public with everything. How could going to a hospital lead to any further danger now? If anything, I would imagine the hospital would put extra security on your room.”

Sam gave her a grateful look for bringing that up and looked to first Clint, who missed the look entirely as his pacing speed increased, and then looked to Natasha instead. Natasha looked thoughtful and then shook her head. “Unless you think it’s necessary to take him now, Sam, I’d rather see how he does over the next hour or two. I mean, overall, aside from that spike a few moments ago, his vitals have already stabilized, right?” Sam grudgingly nodded and Natasha continued, “Then let’s stay put for now, where we know we’re safe, rather than splitting up any more than we already have this evening. At least until we have a clearer sense of what’s going on and what the next steps should look like.”

As Natasha stopped speaking to take a sip from the cup of what Darcy presumed was tea, Darcy felt the palpable tension and frustration and hopelessness in the room. At least taking Pietro to the hospital would be something. It would be more than just sitting and waiting and wondering.

Darcy smoothed Pietro’s hair back and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Somehow, despite the muscle and weight he’d put on over the past few months, he felt thinner, more fragile. Not to mention that she could now feel the slight shivers working their way through his body.

Ultimately, Natasha was the one to break the silence. “I hate to put it this way, Pietro, I truly do. But better to have at least one of you on the outside. After all, you have insights into your adoptive father that we could never have. If we have any hope of finding your sister, we need to have that insight into where your father would have taken her and how we can catch him in all of this. You can provide us with that. Which makes you incredibly valuable.”

Pietro miserably said, “Still. It’s my fault. I should have been the one who was taken. Not her. She should be the one providing you with those insights.”

“Kid, please don’t start in with that shit again,” Clint sighed, running a hand over his face. “We’ve been through all of this already. Neither of you should have been taken. This is all bullshit. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And worrying about that right now isn’t going to be doing anyone any good,” Sam noted. “Right now, all you need to focus on is resting. Everything else can wait at least until the morning. There’s nothing more we can do now.”

Given the restless shifting coming from Clint and Pietro and Darcy’s own internal response, which was one of frustration – not to mention the clear reluctance in Sam’s voice as he said those words - no one seemed to be willing to accept that but at least no one argued. Instead, Darcy just threaded her fingers through Pietro’s damp hair and tried not to think about what could have happened. Because as much as she could understand Pietro’s desire to be with his sister, she couldn’t shake the awful, sickening feeling that if he had been taken along with her, she might never have seen him again. Not with everything she knew about Talbot’s treatment of him over the years. Or when she factored in his recent, near-death experience after being shot. Even if Talbot hadn’t signed off on the shooting, it was clear that he wasn’t motivated to keep Pietro alive.

“For now, let’s focus on distraction,” Clint suggested. “Will it distract you, Sam, if we put on a movie or something? To at least have background?” Sam shook his head and Clint moved over to the TV. “Good. Let’s focus on that, then.”

“And wait to hear anything from Steve or James,” Natasha added, a bit reluctantly. “It seems they’re the most likely ones to provide us with updates any time soon.” She checked her phone again. “They’ve been at the hospital awhile now but I haven’t heard anything since they arrived there.”

It finally seemed the right time for Darcy to ask, “Are they there for Tony?” When Natasha indicated the affirmative, she hesitantly asked, “What happened to him?”

Natasha’s expression darkened. “That’s something I think all of us would like to know.”

-~-

Somewhere between their arrival and now, Steve stopped looking up every time someone new came into the waiting room. There were only so many times he could see an injured or limping person make their way in, or a clearly sick child enter the room. While it gave him a few moments to disconnect from himself, it didn’t offer him any help. There was only one person who could make a difference for them right now and Steve didn’t know a single way to make a plane move any faster. Pepper kept him updated with the latest news from Rhodey, noting when he went dark due to being in the plane. Steve forced himself to stop trying to estimate when Rhodey might be arriving.

Which was why it took Rhodey saying Pepper’s name for Steve to realize he was there. Bucky, who had been awake a bit more often over the past few hours and alternating between waiting inside and taking Winter on walks, startled and Winter immediately pressed himself against Bucky.

“Colonel Rhodes, it’s so good to see you,” Pepper said, rising to her feet immediately. “As I told you on the phone, we’ve been trying to get information but they won’t tell us anything.”

“I’ll see what they’re willing to tell me,” Rhodey said. “And you can call me Rhodey, Pepper. I thought you knew that by now.”

“I really don’t think now’s the time to be debating proper names,” Steve cut in before he could stop himself, even though what he really wanted to do was beg Rhodey to head to the nurse’s desk and force someone to start talking.

Thankfully Rhodey’s demeanor remained the same and he merely nodded. “Point taken. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He stepped up to the front desk and Steve watched as he provided his identification and then spoke with the nurse for a few moments before stepping back with a “thank you, ma’am.”

“The doctor is on his way down to speak to us. I’m going to insist that the three of you are allowed to join in this meeting, even if I have to pull rank to make that happen. The nurse couldn’t tell me much more beyond the fact that he made it through surgery and was moved to the ICU.”

Those words did nothing to ease Steve’s nerves but he reminded himself that at the least they would be getting more information soon. Well, relatively soon, he supposed It wasn’t as though doctors often were able to present immediately after being called down.

Or at least that had always been Steve’s own personal experience with doctors, such as the many trips to the hospital he’d taken with his mom since her diagnosis. Apparently that was not how the world worked when one was Tony Stark or a representative of Tony Stark. Because Steve barely had the chance to sit back down beside Bucky and half-heartedly listen to Pepper asking Rhodey about his trip before a tall man with dark hair already greying at the temples despite the fact that he looked barely 30 strode into the room. His white coat and bearing made it clear that he was a doctor and given that he immediately approached Rhodey, Steve had to assume he was the doctor in question.

“Colonel Rhodes?” When Rhodey nodded, the doctor extended his hand. “My name is Dr. Stephen Strange. I was the resident on call when Mr. Stark was brought in. If you would, I think it would be best if we stepped into one of the private rooms to discuss Mr. Stark’s case further.” When both Steve and Pepper rose to their feet, his eyes shifted to them and his gaze hardened. “My recommendation would be for the two of us to speak privately, Colonel. There is a lot of sensitive information involved in your friend’s situation.”

“Understood,” Rhodey said, and Steve caught Dr. Strange’s shoulders relax the slightest bit before tensing again in response to Rhodey’s next words. “However, it is my preference that the individuals with me tonight join us for this conversation. Pepper Potts is Mr. Stark’s close friend and the others with us are close enough friends that they have been sitting here with Ms. Potts all night to hear word on Tony’s condition.”

“As Mr. Stark’s designated next of kin, that is your decision to make,” Dr. Strange said grudgingly. “I have cautioned you against this choice, which is all I can do at this point. If you will not heed my recommendation, then I suppose you should all come along with me.” He gestured for them to follow him and his brow furrowed when he caught Winter following with Bucky. Steve braced himself for another argument but Dr. Strange seemed to recognize that arguing at this point was futile. Surprising, given that even if he were only a resident, Steve didn’t get the sense that Dr. Strange tended to shy away from anything he had a strong opinion about.

Once the four of them were in one of the private rooms, Dr. Strange began speaking without much preamble, although he did provide enough time that those who chose to sit had the option. “Mr. Stark was brought in at approximately nine-oh-five. He had been left right outside the emergency room entrance – a car dropping him off was spotted by the security cameras, although the individuals driving had clearly anticipated this since the license plate was obscured. Mr. Stark was found with significant injuries, with the most severe being the loss of his right hand.”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t manage to find the words to respond to that.

Pepper somehow managed to speak through her horror. “I’m sorry, the loss of his hand?”

The look of shock in Pepper’s eyes hurt too much to maintain eye contact. Steve averted his gaze as he tried to process the words he’d just heard. Rhodey’s expression was marginally easier to handle because it was completely closed off and there was no emotion there. But that was hard too, in a different way than the overwhelming emotion in Pepper’s face. After a moment, he found himself looking towards Bucky, whose face had lost every bit of color. The discussion of amputation probably wasn’t the best thing for Bucky to be hearing but before Steve could say anything, Dr. Strange spoke again.

“Yes. Mr. Stark’s hand had been removed at the wrist. While attempts were made to minimize the blood loss, including cauterization of the wound, these attempts had been only marginally successful.”

Those words weren’t easier to process. Steve’s gaze remained fixed on Bucky. Bucky hard and automatically reached one hand down to rest on Winter’s head. Steve realized he should have told Bucky to leave. He shouldn’t have brought Bucky with him to begin with.

He should have done things differently but now he couldn’t stop thinking about a bloody stump where Tony’s hand used to be. The hands that he’d watched work on technological masterpieces in the lab. The hands that irritatingly pulled out various tattoo designs and sketches from the pile whenever Tony visited Shield.

Dr. Strange spoke again but before he could finish the first word of the sentence, Rhodey – who despite his expression, was clearly as affected as the rest of them – asked, “I’m sorry, Dr. Strange, but please go back for a moment. His hand is… it’s gone?”

Dr. Strange answered affirmatively and likely would have had more to say if Pepper hadn’t broken in with, “But he can’t have lost his hand. Not with the type of work he does. That’s not… that’s not possible.”

“I assure you that it is possible. If the severed limb had been brought with him, particularly if someone with training or knowledge had kept it in the proper conditions, there may have been an opportunity to reattach it. However, the hand was not present anywhere near or on Mr. Stark’s body and I sincerely doubt that the individual – or individuals – who did this to him cared enough to ensure that the limb could be reattached. As a result, we are currently focused on stabilizing Mr. Stark and ensuring that he makes it through the next several, critical days. Moving forward, we can consider other options available, such as prosthetics.”

That was the final straw for Bucky who cleared his throat and quietly said, “I need to step out for a moment.” Before Steve could ask whether he wanted company, he clucked to Winter and stepped out of the room. Steve, for his part, found himself frozen. His instincts said that he should follow Bucky out and make sure he was as okay as he could be, given the circumstances.

But the other part of him, the selfish one, didn’t want to step out while the doctor continued to talk about what had happened to Tony. While he tried to convince his frozen mind to weigh the pros and cons, he had the opportunity to hear the next piece of information Dr. Strange provided.

“The reason it has been touch and go, aside from the obvious blood loss and injuries incurred, was that Mr. Stark had a variety of substances in his blood. Many of those substances had reached critical levels and while our immediate concern upon his arrival was addressing the significant injury and blood loss, the remainder of our focus has been on balancing out those levels of substances in his system while also ensuring that he is receiving adequate medication to address his current status. If all of that were not enough to weigh, Mr. Stark’s body went through considerable additional damage. The type of damage that the police are now investigating. That type of damage leads to shock and with those substances in his bloodstream… well, things have been critical since his arrival. Suffice to say, at this time, Mr. Stark is in a coma.”

There was nothing more than silence in the room in response to that, almost as though all of the inhabitants were unable to process those words. Steve, for his part, couldn’t comprehend what he had just heard. Tony Stark couldn’t be in a coma. He couldn’t have lost his hand. None of this could be happening.

Rhodey took a deep, steadying breath and his gaze sharpened. His voice was even as he asked, “What’s Tony’s prognosis?”

Dr. Strange studied Rhodey’s face for a few moments. “If he makes it through the night? I would estimate 75% for him to survive this, perhaps 50% to make it through without significant, permanent, irreversible damage. In addition to the loss of his hand, which is already a given.”

Rhodey’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t even flinch. All he said was, “Thank you for your candor” and then reached over and rested a hand on Pepper’s shoulder.

Somewhere in the midst of his own numbness, Steve saw that tears were streaming down Pepper’s face. Despite the tears, she remained quiet and her expression was determined. “When can we see him?”

“Given the current situation, I would not advise more than one visitor in the room at the time,” Dr. Strange said.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from cutting in with a sharp, “I don’t care what you advise.” The last thing he wanted was for Rhodey or Pepper to be left alone in the room with Tony’s unconscious body.

Dr. Strange’s jaw tightened. “You have my recommendations for his care.“

At that moment, Dr. Strange’s pager went off. He glanced at it and then replaced it in his pocket.

“If you will excuse me, I am needed back in the ED. The ICU is on the third floor. If you have further questions, please direct them to the nurses on the floor.”

Rhodey extended his hand and Dr. Strange, with the slightest bit of hesitation, accepted it and shook.

“Thank you,” Rhodey said, and there was genuine gratitude in his voice, which Steve thought was generous given that Dr. Strange hadn’t had much of a bedside manner. “I’m sure Tony will thank you as well when he wakes up.”

Steve could see Dr. Strange make a concentrated effort not to say something, which he had to assume would have been along the lines of clarifying, “If he wakes up.” Which was good, given that Steve wasn’t certain he could stop himself from speaking exactly what was on his mind.

As he gazed around the room and took in Pepper’s tear-streaked face and the emotionless mask on Rhodey’s face that was starting to slip, Steve remembered that Bucky wasn’t there. How could he have forgotten? It must have been only a few moments. It couldn’t have been more than that. Right? How long had he left Bucky on his own?

Steve muttered a “be right back” to Rhodey and Pepper. He hurried out of the room, taking a moment to process the comparatively overwhelming waiting area after the relative silence of the room Dr. Strange had them in. Not that there was a lot of noise or even activity out there at this hour but it still felt like a lot. The waiting room even looked different after the news they’d received about Tony: the colors were all too muted or too intense, there was no in-between.

As Steve scoured the area, he could easily see that Bucky wasn’t there. Of course, he wasn’t there. Why would he have been? If he was having a panic attack, the last thing he would want was to be in the hospital. Steve stepped out of the front doors to the emergency department and looked up and down the path outside as he tried to determine where Bucky would have gone. The hospital campus was huge.

Steve took a steadying breath. The cold air chilled his throat and went straight into his chest. He choked back a cough and waited to see if his lungs would seize up and refuse to cooperate; although if he had to have an asthma attack, he supposed that already being at the hospital put him in a pretty good place. After a few false starts, he managed to get his chest rising and falling again.

The cold air was good, though. He needed to focus. Bucky couldn’t have gone far. They’d only been talking to Dr. Strange for a couple of minutes. He glanced at his watch as though that might provide an answer but the numbers meant nothing to him. He tried to run through the facts. If Bucky were having a panic attack, which was likely, he could only have gotten so far. Unless he had panicked and tried to run. But had Winter with him. It would have made a lot more sense for Bucky to find a quiet place where he could sit and let Winter do his job.

He took in another deep breath and thankfully this time his throat and lungs did not rebel. That was good. He needed to think through the white noise in his head that couldn’t get past the news he’d just heard about Tony.

Bucky wouldn’t have stayed near the buildings. That was the easiest thing to determine. The main question wasn’t which building he was near but which direction he had gone in. That was a bit harder to figure out.

Instead of overthinking everything, he just started walking, moving through parking lots, trying to avoid the icy spots on the ground, and letting instinct guide him. After five minutes of what seemed to be hopeless wandering, he considered heading back inside to grab his jacket to protect against the cold. It was then that he heard a low bark and immediately turned towards in the direction of the sound. There couldn’t be two dogs out here. Not at this hour of the night or morning or whatever the fuck it was at this point. Now that he paid attention to it, he see the beginnings of red creep across the sky.

Bucky sat in a gazebo, Winter’s front paws and most the dog’s upper body in his lap, his head pressed against Winter’s fur, his remaining arm wrapped around him. Steve stood back for a moment and studied Bucky’s body language before hesitantly moving forward. Bucky was visibly shaking, although that could have been from the cold, but his breathing was slow and steady.

Bucky glanced up. His face was pale and drawn, his eyes were red and his cheeks were tearstained. Steve could see that he was trying to figure out what to say.

“Do you want me to call Nat? I could ask her to come by and pick you up to bring you home?” asked Steve

A mixture of emotions flashed across Bucky’s face– relief, guilt, anger, and sadness. After swallowing hard several times, enough to finally speak, Bucky admitted, “That’d probably be for the best if you’re okay staying here on your own.”

“I have Rhodey and Pepper,” Steve gently pointed out. “I think I can manage.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky’s voice broke and his face crumpled as soon as the words left his mouth. “I’m so fucking sorry, Steve, but if I stay here, I’m not gonna be good to anybody.”

Winter licked at his face and Bucky pulled back enough to pet his dog. Steve took a step forward and rested his hand on Bucky’s good shoulder.

“It’s okay, Buck,” he said gently. “It’s okay. Hell, it’s good that you know yourself well enough to recognize that. This is a fucked up situation. It’s been a long, rough night and it’s been a hell of a past couple of months. If you need to recharge, no one – let alone me – is gonna fault you for that.”

Bucky just miserably nodded and pressed his face against Winter’s fur once again. Steve stepped away and took the opportunity to pull out his cell phone and call Natasha. She answered after two rings and he took a moment to summarize all of the information that Dr. Strange had given them about Tony’s condition.

Before he could even ask her if she could come down to pick Bucky up, she asked, “What do you two need?”

He hesitated, studying Bucky intently. Bucky raised his head long enough to nod shortly and then lowered his gaze to miserably look down at Winter. Steve exhaled slowly and said, “I’m gonna stay here for a little longer, with Rhodey and Pepper. If you’re up for a little drive, I think Bucky’s gonna need to head home and get some proper sleep.”

“Of course,” Natasha said, and her tone registered no surprise. “Is there anything I can bring from home for you and the others?”

“Nothing major’s coming to mind but I guess a change of clothes might be good. Otherwise, surprise me, I guess.”

“I’ll be there within the next half hour. Where should I meet you?”

“Just come to the main entrance. Me and Bucky will be waiting there.” He hesitated before he asked, “How’s Pietro?”

Natasha was quiet for a few seconds. “Angry. Upset. Slowly coming off of the drugs he was given. But Sam says he’s stable. Darcy is here, so he has support.”

Steve bit his lip. “That’s something, at least. Any… any word on anything else?”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “No. Not yet. We’re doing everything we can though.” Then, before Steve could respond, Natasha added, “But I’ll keep you updated. For now, just let James know I’m on my way.”

“Will do. Thanks, Natasha.” Steve hung up and moved closer to Bucky once more. Bucky sat up as Steve’s footsteps approached and Steve said, “I guess you already know what I’m about to see but Nat’s on her way.”

Bucky nodded, his fingers still sunk into Winter’s fur. “Then we should head back inside, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably, if you’re ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to but I suppose I can manage it.” Bucky pushed himself up to his feet. “That way Nat’s not out searching for us as well.”

While Bucky remained silent as they walked back, Steve couldn’t find the words himself at this point. Perhaps that would change after the shock had worn off but Steve just couldn’t comprehend how much his life had changed over the years. Once upon a time, his biggest worry was Tony Stark being an asshole. Now his biggest worry was whether Tony would live through the night.

And whether they would ever see Wanda again.

Steve considered the fact that the worst part, perhaps, beyond the immediate situation was the thought that even if Tony made it through the night, even if Wanda were back at home, safe and sound and with them, nothing would ever go back to where it was before.

-~-

The townhouse was quiet when Natasha led Bucky and Winter inside. Bucky had barely said a handful of words on the way home and she hadn’t pushed him for more. Given the information Steve had shared with her about Tony’s condition, she could only imagine where Bucky’s thoughts were and none of those places were particularly good.

Natasha paid attention to the creak of their feet against the floorboards as they moved towards the stairs – she could see the flickering of the TV and caught enough of a glimpse of the living room to see that Pietro, Darcy, Sam, and Clint had all set up camp for the night there, with Darcy and Pietro curled tightly around one another on the couch. Sam and Clint had curled themselves rather uncomfortably in the chairs.

She left them where they were for the time being and focused instead of steering Bucky upstairs. He leaned his good arm on the stair railing, while Winter padded at his side. Natasha kept pace, a step or two behind him, just in case he lost his balance or faltered, but he seemed as steady as he could be, given everything.

He made his way into the bedroom and, once inside, stood there, looking lost. She gave him a few seconds before gently resting a hand on his right shoulder. He tensed but didn’t pull away. She took that as good of a sign as she could have expected.

“James, what do you need?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Why don’t I bring over your medicine and then help you get into something a bit more comfortable?”

He nodded, on sheer autopilot, and she took that opportunity to steer him towards the bed. He sat down without argument. She waited until he was settled before shaking out a Xanax and opening a bottle of water, handing them to Bucky one by one. He took the pill and she checked in with him once more, waiting for him to nod in agreement before starting to take off his shoes.

She continued to check in with him every step of the way as she tugged off his jeans and layers of various shirts and sweaters, which she replaced with a pair of pajamas and t-shirt, and then encouraged him to lay back while she worked on removing Winter’s vest and collar. Bucky initially remained sitting upright, although after a few moments he shifted enough to slip under the covers and settled down under the blankets. Once out of his gear, Winter hopped up immediately and settled against him. Natasha took the time to start the oil diffuser and ensure that the blackout curtains were in place over the windows. The routine was familiar, despite all of the unknowns currently running through her head, and something about that was comforting. She hoped it was equally comforting for Bucky.

It was only after she was satisfied that everything was in place that she turned to Bucky. “Is there anything that you want to talk about?”

He instinctively started to shake his head, then paused to consider the question. “I don’t know. There’s a lot on my mind right now, given what happened to Stark.”

“Steve mentioned that he lost his hand,” Natasha said carefully. “I could see how that would bring up for a lot of unpleasant memories for you.”

Bucky choked back a bitter laugh. “Yeah, that’s one way of describing it. I wanted to stay there for Steve but I knew I was just gonna implode. I guess despite how far I’ve come, I haven’t come far enough to handle something like this.”

“James, I think you need to consider the full context of this situation.” Natasha settled down on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on his good shoulder once again. “For starters, you’re only a short-time off from dealing with the fire at Shield and the damage to your arm. Prior to that entire traumatic event, you had only just been reaching a point of stability in your own recovery. And now, on top of all of that, you spent the night going into a potentially dangerous situation that I’m sure brought up plenty of memories for you, before even reaching the hospital and hearing the news about Tony. You can’t judge yourself for your reaction tonight. You can’t even judge yourself if you have the same reaction tomorrow because you need more time to handle everything. This is a very unusual situation and you’re someone who has already been through plenty of traumatic situations that the average person would never encounter. That sort of thing can build up.”

“But what do I have to handle, Nat?” Bucky questioned, and she could hear the anger in his voice. “I’m safe. I’m not in danger. It’s Pietro who needs to be worried. He just lost his sister. It’s Wanda who is in danger. It’s Tony who’s in intensive care. I feel like out of everyone, I have no right to be falling apart.”

“Last I checked, James, none of us have the luxury of deciding when and how to break,” Natasha said. “It’s something that happens when events build up. But instead of arguing, how about we focus on resting for the time being? We can discuss this more when you wake up. Do you want me to stay with you while you sleep?”

She could see him wrestle with the question but instead of arguing, he merely said, “I think that would help, as much as anything can help at this point.”

“Then let me get changed and I’ll be right back,” she promised, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

She left him in bed, his fingers sunk into Winter’s fur, and waited until she was alone in her own room to take several, shaky breaths. No need letting him or anyone else see how shaken she was, particularly with what she had found while she was out this evening. That would be something to explore more once she had enough time to process everything.

Returning to the room, she found Bucky already stretched out and relaxed, Winter curled close to his side. Clearly the medication had already worked its magic. She slid in on the other side and carefully wrapped her arms around him. He exhaled raggedly and shifted his weight closer to her but didn’t say anything. Otherwise, he remained quiet. It wasn’t long before his breathing evened out and the last of his muscles relaxed as he drifted off.

Natasha only wished she would be able to fall asleep just as easily instead of watching the minutes on the clock continue ticking by, knowing that outside the sun was already rising.