When Bucky joined the Avengers, after much talk to Tony and therapy sessions, it seemed like the band was back together and stronger than ever. The differences that troubled your team were talked through and eased and now, you were trying your best to deal and manage with the Sokovia accords - while still dealing with others missions in the back of the government when you could.
Those missions were rare and tremendously planned to the very last detail to avoid any surprises but surprises were part of the job. You knew that as you were hanging for your life at the cracking rope.
Enemies were far more numbered than anticipated and your little team had found themselves overwhelmed. It was just Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you down there. Even if Tony and Bruce were close - they were still far enough and forced not to help. You couldn’t attract attention to yourself. You couldn’t also push them to come every time one of you were in a bad position.
Yet, looking down, you swallowed down with difficulty. You could be optimist all you wanted, but you’d still fall to your death either way. You cursed under your breath. Still not talking through your radio, you weighed your options. Natasha clearly was in the middle of a fight by her ragged breathing and the sharp sound of metal clicking together. Sam was apparently flying out to deal with the high-positioned shooters. And Bucky..
You cursed once more, the rope quickly, too quickly, ripping at the cracking point.
You were more than aware of the fact that Bucky and you got closer than the other teammates over the last few months. So much, in fact, you could suppose you were almost in some kind of relationship. The none-said and gentle gestures were more than friendly but neither of you dared to say anything. Could you have imagined it? You didn’t know. But you liked to think maybe, there was something more. So standing here, holding literally for your life, you weighed your options. Would you let yourself die here and join the broken body of the enemy responsible for your situation here or should you break the silent code of not calling for help?
As the rope finally snapped in two, you guessed it was too late to decide for anything. But as you hear the rope snap, your heartbeat stopping at the time you wasted thinking - loud running footsteps confused you. As you were feeling the air suck you down to your imminent death, you were more confused than overjoyed to hear a loud falling sound attracted your eyes up and see a metal arm reaching out for you. His rough grip caught your wrist just in time. So rough in fact, you’re probably sure by the sound and pain of it, it was now broken.
But you held down because as you looked up in the deep blue eyes of your saviour, you choked on your surprise. They were totally panicked. Bucky, the man of steel as Tony ended up calling him, was in pure terror. His eyes were frightened and glossy, threatening to cry at any second. His grip on you was shaking but getting tighter as you were slipping under him. His mouth was agape and you could barely call for your name. He tried to lift you up in one swift move up but the jolt of pain it brought you dragged a long cry out of you. It panicked him even more and almost dropped you again if not for your free hand catching on the cold prosthetic arm. The touch seemed to shock him out, his eyes staring at yours before the soft movement of your thumb on the metal seemed to calm him.
“You’ve got me. You’ve got me.” You reassured him, forcing a smile through the breathtaking wave of pain from your wrist. It seemed to do the trick as Bucky took a deep breath and forced you more gently on the solid group, your free hand gripping on his vest then around his neck - his arm leaving your wrist for your waist.
Holding each other tight as you were both finally safe, Bucky let out a shaky breath in your neck. He was shaking like a leaf and you were shocked to see him so vulnerable. His grip on your shirt was almost hurtful but the soft cries in your ear hurt more than any wounds or broken bone.
“Hey, I’m okay. You saved me, you know?” You tried to cheer him up, feeling him nod weakly against your shoulder. Putting his cheek against it, he seemed to finally breathe again. After a few seconds of stroking his hair, your kissed his head.
“We still have to go, Buck. It’s not safe forever here - Sam and Nat might need us too.” You said as softly as you could, wrapping your wrist tightly in a bandage to reduce the pain for the last fight. “Are you gonna be okay?”
His head lifting up to yours nodded only. His eyes were empty as he stared in nothing else. You bit your lip. He wasn’t. Checking if anyone was near, you knelled next to him. You’d be damned if he was going to get hurt by saving you.
“James.” His head lifted at his name, shocked out of his stupor. Your hand softly passed over his cheek. “We need to go. Alright? Because you saved me, we need to go home now. Okay?”
He kept his eyes deep inside yours for a long moment before finally nodding, his voice cracking softly. “Okay.” He responded. “Okay.” He repeated more confidently. He took your hand, not without a wave of guilt flashing over him at your wrapped wrist. You followed his gaze and smiled.
“You’ll always catch me?” You teased to cheer him up but the pure look of determination he sent you made you stop altogether.
“Always.” Weirdly, it sounded more like a promise than a teasing. He was being more serious than he ever was with you. Your eyes stayed on him for a second before he handed you his hand once more. You felt yourself too vulnerable for a second but eventually held it.
“Always it is, then.”