What's Family For?
They’d turned together, moving silently as one, to the carpark of their building. Both very much relieved to find their bikes unmarred by the battle. The apartment was already an insult to injury, but if their bikes had been damaged? Bucky might have gone back to SHIELD just to smack Loki right in the mouth a time or dozen.
By mutual agreement they both piled onto their bikes. All it had taken was one disgusted and distrustful glare at a passing New York taxi for them both to decide they’d rather risk driving themselves. While not an active enemy, the iconic New York yellow cab had more than made it clear today that they were no friend to de-frosted soldiers.
They hadn’t exactly discussed where they were going to go. Somehow, they had both found themselves instinctively turning in the direction of Brooklyn. Or more specifically, Becca’s house.
If there was one thing you could count on family for, it was for them to willingly offer you a couch to sleep on after your apartment was squashed in an alien attack.
Getting off the bike was somehow much harder than getting on it had ever been. Bucky and Steve wavered like they were drunk, leaning against each other as they swayed dangerously. Two weeks ago, they had walked up the stairs of Becca’s front stoop for the first time. The seven steps hadn’t seemed so impossibly challenging then.
Teamwork and more than one handprint dented into the stair railing, saw them to the front door. They only had to knock twice before the door was being ripped open to reveal a grey faced Becca Barnes.
She took one look at them and her face crumpled. Only sheer will stopped the tears building in her eyes from running down her face. Her hand made to move to cover her mouth before shakily diverting to instead cup against the side of Bucky’s face.
“Oh my God, James. Oh, I thought- we could see it all on the television. Are you-? Oh Steve! You both look horrendous.” Becca rambled as she urged them into the house. “Tim! Tim call Kimberly! Tell her to bring her kit!”
Bucky focused on getting them through the short entrance hall, bypassing the carpeted living room to instead go to the tiled kitchen. The last thing he wanted was to put alien goo or blood on Becca’s carpets.
“You mind if we take a shower?” Steve asked, voice gruff and tired.
“Of course not, Steve. You know where the bathroom is?”
“Yeah. Come on, Buck.” Steve almost threw them to the stairs.
Bucky’s shoulder scraped against the wallpaper – thankfully not the one that was injured. He could only hope he didn’t leave a smear of dirt against the walls as they began thumping carefully up the stairs. Becca hovered behind them the entire way as if she had every intention of catching them should they falter.
“I’ll get you both a change of clothes. Just leave what you’re wearing in the tub and I’ll throw it away later.” Becca instructed, her panic already dying down to practicality. “There are towels in the cupboard, and Tim is calling Kimberly – she’s one of Bobby’s, and a doctor.”
“Thanks Becca. We’ll be ok now.” Bucky promised, flashing her a tired version of his normal grin. He caught sight of her watery smile before carefully easing the bathroom door shut behind them.
With both him and Steve in the room, it was a tight fit. Their elbows knocked together, a symphony of groans hitting the air, as they stripped down to their skivvies. Steve’s iconic shield was tipped face down on the counter, used as a platter to hold the few remaining weapons they had on their persons – mostly knives, though Steve had managed to keep hold of his gun and a single spare mag.
“You first.” Bucky grunted, nodding to the shower. It was a testament to just how tired Steve was when he didn’t fight it – merely stepping into the shower and turning the stream hot.
Bucky sat on the toilet lid while Steve washed. Any other time he’d have left the man to it, but it was standard practise to not leave an injured man alone in the showers. If Steve were to pass out and slip, he could hurt himself worse. So Bucky sat with one ear listening to the low hisses of pain Steve gave, while he stared blankly down at his bruised and dirt covered hands.
The water didn’t turn off though the shower door opened, and Steve stepped out. Bucky stood, stripping his skivvies and stepping in while Steve wrapped a towel around himself. The water was both terrific and awful. It burned where it touched his injuries but soothed where it touched already aching muscles. Bucky didn’t linger long before setting to cleaning himself. He scrubbed his body down, taking special care to scrub his hair through twice to make sure he got all of the alien goop off himself.
Once he was sure he was clean, and the water ran clear, Bucky let himself have a moment to relax. Post mission fatigue leeched the strength from his limbs. Encased as they were in the safety of Becca’s home, the adrenaline that had fuelled him past the point of exhaustion was quick to dissipate.
Reaching out blindly, Bucky hit the lever to turn the water off. He couldn’t make himself move away from where he was leant against the tiles. The cool tile felt almost heavenly against his forehead. They’d muddled through all evening but now the very last of his reserves were gone. Bucky quite thought he might be able to fall asleep standing up right here.
“Buck?” Steve called. The shower door opened, and his friend’s hands wasted no time in slowly helping him out. “Come on, pal.” Steve murmured, sitting him down on the closed toilet lid before tossing a towel over him.
“So tired, Steve.” Bucky mumbled, half heartedly scrubbing at his hair with a second towel Steve tossed at him.
“I know, Buck. Just a little longer and we can rest.” Steve opened the bathroom door wide enough to grab the pile of clothes sat outside. He returned with two neatly folded sets of pyjama pants and t-shirts.
It took a bit of manoeuvring with both of them in the bathroom, limbs heavy with exhaustion as they bumped against one another, but eventually they both managed to dress. Bucky donned a simple pair of blue stripped pants and a dark green shirt while Steve had some very nice sheep on his pants that matched lovely with his sky-blue shirt.
“Not a word, Barnes.” Steve grunted against the tired smirk Bucky threw him. Steve grumbled something unflattering under his breath as he led the way out into the hall.
Getting down the stairs was both easier and far harder than it had been to climb up. They were met at the bottom of the stairs by a worried Tim and Becca.
“Kimberly is on her way. She should be here any moment.” Tim announced, smiling tightly at them both.
“Thank you, sir.” Steve intoned on behalf of them both. “We’re sorry for turning up so unexpectedly but our apartment was destroyed in the fighting.”
“Don’t be stupid, Steven Rogers. You know you’re both always welcome here.” Becca said sharply. “Now, come sit down.”
Bucky followed complacently into the living room where he all but collapsed back against the sofa. His legs sprawled out in front of him as he sunk down low. The couch cushions embraced the curve of his aching shoulders and cradled the back of his head.
The sudden sinking of the couch cushions next to him made him crack open eyes he hadn’t been aware of closing. He tried to blink off the groggy remnants of sleep as he looked around.
“Alright Uncle James?” An unknown lady with familiar brown eyes and a face shape that reminded Bucky vaguely of his father, asked.
“Hmm?”
“My name’s Kimberley, but you can call me Kim.” The woman said, offering him a small smile. “Aunt Rebecca called me to come take a look at you and Captain Rogers. She and Uncle Tim are waiting in the kitchen to give us a little privacy.”
If he’d have been even a touch more awake, he might have made comment to their apparent relation. As it was, his brain only managed to stick on one part of her statement. Bucky’s tired eyes scanned the room. “Steve?” He called, voice husky from a sleep he hadn’t planned to take.
“What’dya want, Buck? ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” Steve groaned from the sofa opposite his own.
“You ‘kay?”
“‘m fine. You’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Bucky gave a tired grin. He didn’t protest when warm hands pulled at the hem of his t-shirt; just sat forward enough for it to be tugged over his head. There might have been some kind of vocal reaction to the damage beaten onto his flesh, but Bucky was far too busy to give it much thought. “Hey Steve?”
“Yeah pal?”
“183.”
“You’re kiddin’ me.”
“Come on, Rogers, let’s hear it.” Bucky urged, flapping a hand in his general direction.
“I want it noted that I was also busy leading the team.”
Bucky guffawed. He could practically taste victory on his tongue as he grinned widely. “No excuses!”
“Seriously, I was real busy.”
“Take your defeat like a man, Stevie.”
“Ugh,” Steve groaned before muttering something too quiet for Bucky to hear. While he couldn’t see his friend’s features, Bucky could almost picture the way his face would be scrunched up in a sulk.
“What was that?”
“I said,” Steve heaved a very put-upon sigh, “I count 176.”
“HA!” Bucky exclaimed loudly. Loud enough to make the hands pressing a wound pad on his shoulder jolt in surprise, hitting against the wound. Bucky might have been annoyed but that pain was nothing compared to how his ribs screamed at the sudden jostling. “I beat you by seven.” Bucky singsonged in a voice only slightly hoarse with pain.
“I was busy!” Steve protested.
“Captain America, ladies and gentlemen. Defeated by his trusty right-hand man. As usual.”
“Oh shuddup Barnes.”
At Kim’s urging, Bucky sat forward so she could get to his ribs properly.
“This’ll probably need stitches.” She said, probing gently against the laceration on his side. “And your ribs might be broken. We’d need to x-ray to be sure, but the bruising is certainly dark enough.”
“Figured as much. Just do what you can, doll, and don’t worry about the ribs.” Bucky grunted, offering her a smile. She returned it, albeit shakily. “So, you’re one of Bobby’s kids?” He asked, tongue feeling loose as his Brooklyn drawl came strong.
Wasn’t that a trip though? The woman sat beside him was, at the very least, twenty years his senior. And yet, she was his kid brother’s daughter.
Kim didn’t stop in her search through her bag, but she did flash him a smile. “That’s right.” When she came back to his side, she had a needle and thread.
Bucky gave a sharp hiss with the first stab of the needle through flesh.
“My dad, he didn’t like talking about you much. I think it was still painful for him, even after so many years.”
“Yeah?” Bucky reply was a touch breathless as he struggled to stay still. It was only partially caused by the needle. “What did he grow up to do, anyhow?”
“Mechanic.”
Bucky blinked in surprise. He hadn’t even known Bobby had wanted to learn about cars. He’d never shown a lick of interest when Bucky was working at that mechanic shop part-time. “I didn’t know he liked cars.”
“He, uh, got into it in the army. Kept it up when he got home.”
Pain flared in Bucky’s chest that had absolutely nothing to do with needle in his flesh. When he spoke, his voice was a croak. “Bobby was in the army?”
Kim nodded but didn’t say anything more on the subject. Her tongue was peaking out from the corner of her lips as she carefully finished the last three stitches before tying it all off. “We’ll need to wrap your ribs. And you’ll need to be careful with them for the next few months. Really, I’d recommend getting them x-rayed-,”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t my first time with busted ribs.” Bucky waved a hand.
Though her expression pinched in obvious displeasure, Kim didn’t fight him on it. She made quick work of slapping a bandage over the row of stitches before reaching into her bag for a roll of support bandages.
The exhaustion Bucky had set briefly aside snuck back up on him while Kim carefully looped bandages around his chest. The very second she was done, he let himself fall back against the cushions.
“Anything else hurt? Any other injuries you think might need seeing to?” Kim asked, voice professional but still kind.
“Nah. I’m good as new. Thanks, doll.” He gave her a smile which was returned. “You should go check on Steve, though; his face got attacked by a taxi.”
“His -, what?” Kim blinked at him confused.
“I don’t remember taxi-cabs bein’ so evil. But they were out in force today. Right, Stevie?”
Steve grunted a very vague affirmative. It was the kind of noise that meant he had no idea what had been said but was willing to agree if it shut Bucky up.
“Right.” Kim agreed slowly. She patted Bucky’s knee before standing up and gathering her things to move across the room. She paused before moving away, as if she knew this would be her last chance to talk to Bucky tonight. It was a safe bet with the way Bucky’s eyelids were already beginning to draw down. “Aunty Rebecca called about a party next week; an official welcome home for both of you.”
Bucky hummed low in his throat as he blinked slowly up at her.
“I guess I’ll see you there?” It should have been a statement of fact. After all, it was supposed to be their welcome home party. But her words came out far more hesitant; almost shy.
Bucky grinned up at her comfortingly and lazy. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Kim beamed back, offering him a nod before hurrying to the other side of the room where Steve lay out. Bucky listened to the quiet murmur of their voices. Their words were lost to him as his eyelids finally closed.
Sleep came quick and deep.