I fall to pieces
Bucky was pining.
He'd screwed things up miserably with Ava, and there seemed no chance of another opportunity. It was sometimes hard to work with her, but he retreated to the impassive face he'd had such a long time to perfect during his time as the New Fist of Hydra™ so as not to make things difficult. This close to the holiday, people were taking time off--days or just a few hours here and there, and it made scheduling meetings more difficult. Fortunately, this seemed to be the situation everywhere, and nobody fussed much about it, even the clients. And while he was getting put on more projects with the other managers, the week before Christmas, he was placed on the team forming around Ava for a new hotel in Midtown. Because this project was starting from the recently cleared site, there was much to do and they would be working closely together. Yay. A small team of them met on the construction site, lumpy from having the previous building knocked down and removed. The architects, the construction manager, Nelson, Ava, Ben, and Bucky discussed the project and immediately found an issue; the surveyors might have made a slight error and the architects needed to make sure their work was correct to make sure the building would fit on the lot as planned, if the surveyors were correct. They'd get another company to re-survey the site. It was freezing, even through winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, snow falling, so the meeting hit the highlights and the group adjourned as quickly as possible. The architects, construction manager, and Nelson flitted off; Ava, Ben, and Bucky had work to do back at the office and cut through the public parking garage next to the site. The client was negotiating to buy it and put up a taller one in its place to service the hotel and surrounding businesses for a price; it was only four stories above ground, a real waste of space. It had been meant for more; there were two subterranean levels and it had been planned for eight above ground, but the money had run out during construction.
They weren't talking much, being cold, and anxious to get to the subway, which was warmer. Bucky was a few steps behind, having accidentally dropped his phone, which had bounced under a fender.
As accustomed as he was to things going in the crapper in a hurry, Bucky was still surprised at what seemed like a simultaneous quaking and booming sound. Even as he fell, he recognized the use of explosives and cursed; he'd smelled the motor-oil odor of C-4 but dismissed it because they were in a garage. Also, he fumed that this was a dick move. He was retired.
The wind was driven out of him by his landing on his front, and he was being severely compressed by debris, making ribs crack. He squirmed free in desperation and slid several feet on the tilted cracked concrete before falling off and dropping down a couple of extra yards. He wheezed his lungs full of air again, sounding like PreSerum!Steve during a bad chest cold, and coughed from all the dust in the air. "Ava! Ben!" But the garage was still falling apart--Jesus, how much C-4 had been used? This was really overkill--and he couldn't hear anything, even with his enhanced hearing. He waited until movement was reduced to trickles of small diameter debris and tried again.
He heard a cough.
"Ava! Ben! Anybody?"
More coughing. "Bucky?"
A female voice. Ava. He closed his eyes, both in relief and to keep dirt from falling in them.
"Ava! Are you all right? Can you move your fingers and toes?"
"Yes, I can move my hands and feet," she said after a moment. "But I'm pinned here. Ben... is no longer with us. Are you ok, Bucky?" She sounded near tears, and this kicked his brain in gear. He was bruised and battered, his right kidney had been smacked by a chunk of concrete, in addition to the ribs, but these would heal. Importantly, he could move, and carefully inched toward the edge of his piece of garage closest to where her voice sounded. This slab was stable, at least right now.
"I've been worse," he said so she would know he was still there, and slowly poked his head over the edge.
"I can see you!" she said, sounding thrilled about it for the first time in a long time.
"I see you too, doll," he said, relieved down to his bones. He could see her head and shoulders. She was lying on her side. He scanned things below her. The layers seemed to be pretty much wedged into place, but that could still change. "Ava, what can you see above us? Does it look like it's going to collapse?" She studied the wreckage, and he ducked out of the way for a moment.
"Ok, Bucky," she called, and he poked his head back over to look at her. "Ok, this looks like a precast concrete parking garage." He looked at her blankly. "This means that a bearing pad is installed beneath the end of each double-t beam stem and under the other beams and panels," she said patiently. "These pads are designed to accommodate expansion, contraction, and rotation at the bearing area, preventing spalling and cracking. The movement, noise, and vibration of traffic is absorbed or transferred by the bearing pads. I think that the bearing pads were loose laid, which means that they weren't fixed into place with something like epoxy, which kind of compounds the problem here, there's nothing structural to prevent them from moving. I can see a weight-bearing structure right above you, which looks like it's kept us from being crushed. We should be ok unless it moves. I don't know anything about demolition, which seems like a massive oversight in hindsight." Her brows came together. "How likely is that, do you think?" Her voice sounded forlorn. "But I think you could climb out."
"We should be ok for now," he said. He could hear car alarms outside, and there was another tremor, but not from the garage although rubble fell again. Ava made a funny sound. He checked his pocket and found his phone. "Shit," he cursed. The screen was cracked and he couldn't get it to turn on. "Ava, do you have your bag?" He could see her look around.
"Yes, I can see it. But I can't reach it." Her voice wobbled. "My phone's in it." He looked around and found a route down that shouldn't destabilize anything. He deftly climbed down, ignoring his pain with the ease of practice, landing on his toes, and stood a moment to make sure that his weight wouldn't cause the slab to shift. Then he ducked under and surveyed the situation.
"Damn it, Ava, I asked if you were ok," he said, stress making him snap.
"I said I was pinned," she snapped back, and her eyes finally filled. She'd been impaled through the leg on a piece of rebar. "My bag's over there." She pointed, and his words died in his throat as he saw an arm sticking out between two heavy pieces of concrete. It was wearing a brown leather sleeve with striped cuffs. Ben had been wearing that jacket. Just beyond the arm was Ava's bag. He carefully moved forward enough to snag the strap, and retreated back, sitting carefully between Ava and Ben's arm.
"Do you mind?" he asked, and Ava shook her head. He rooted carefully and found her phone. The screen was also cracked, but it was still functional. He dialed Steve.
"Buck? Are you ok?" Steve's familiar voice said. "There have been a couple of bombings. All in Midtown."
"I'm fine," he said. "But we're in a parking garage, of all places, that was blown up. Who the hell does that? Ava's with me, she's stuck on a piece of rebar. We need help. Where are you?" He gave the cross streets.
"I can be there in about five, ten minutes," Steve finally said. "Is there anybody else you can hear?"
"The coworker we were with didn't make it," Bucky said flatly. "I haven't heard anybody else." He hadn't heard any cars and hadn't seen any movement before the explosions; it was mid afternoon, not a high-traffic time even for the holidays, and there had been a sign at the entrance that had said there were no spaces available. He could hear Steve puff a little, and jogging sounds, apologies to other pedestrians, and despite his situation, he couldn't help a little grin. Then he responded in more detail to Steve's questions, discussing the situation like a busted op. Steve hung up, and Bucky returned his attention to Ava. He could hear sirens faintly. "Stevie's coming to help, doll," he said, moving closer. "We'll get you out." He looked at the rebar; it was extending a couple inches out of her leg. It had impaled her thigh, on the outside of the bone, fortunately. There was some blood, but not much, and he recognized that Ava was going into shock. He shrugged his coat off and covered her with it.
"It's cold, Bucky, you need to stay warm. We could be here awhile."
"You need it more than I do, sweetheart," he said, scooting closer and picking up one of her hands. "I run warm anyway. Serum. And you're looking shocky." She was clammy, pale, and her pulse and breathing were elevated. "Lift your head and move your arm," he directed, and slid his ankle under when she did, giving her head, neck and shoulders some support from the strain. The way she was laying, her head was propped up only with her wrist, and it looked really uncomfortable, not that an ankle would be inherently nicer. It was just about the height of the support. The slope of the concrete prevented him from sitting up and getting closer, and he wanted to be able to move quickly. He could also block her view of what was left of Ben by sitting up like this.
It seemed like forever but was seven minutes before the phone rang. Steve was there. "I got bad news, Buck," he said without preamble. "The other bombing targets are getting the attention because there are a lot of people trapped. They'll get here eventually, but it's a matter of resource allocation, which is still not up to pre-Snap levels. Sitrep." Bucky described approximately how far they'd been from the exit and an estimate of how far down they were, the structural information Ava had given him, and that Ava's leg was pierced by the metal.
"Looks like a piece of concrete split and twisted some; you can see rebar at intervals, but only two pieces have exposed ends and she fell on the first one. It's perforated the back of her right thigh just above the knee, through the hamstrings. I don't think that it's perforated the artery; she's moved some and there's bleeding but not like you'd expect if that had occurred. There are still other larger blood vessels though. Otherwise she looks ok, shock is setting in. We need to get her out."
"Buck? Ava?" Steve's voice was much louder and clearer as he raised his voice.
"You sound like you're on my right side, about two o'clock."
"Ok, that's helpful." There was a little shifting, some pebbles fell. "Buck, can you move to a place where you can look up and see if you can see me?" He gently reclaimed his ankle and scooted over to the side where he could see up. A small chunk of concrete promptly fell dead center on his forehead. Ow.
"I can see your shadow," Bucky said. There was a pause, more careful movement. "Ah, now I can see your foot." Steve leaned over, and they grinned at each other, relieved at the sight. After discussing the way that the concrete had fallen, Bucky slithered out to see if it would be possible to climb out. There was a way, but it wouldn't be easy, it wasn't straightforward enough to use a rope. He dropped down to talk to Ava.
"You go on, Bucky. I can wait for the emergency people," she said instantly. "I haven't climbed anything, really, since the jungle gym in elementary school. There's no point in both of us staying here."
"I'm not leaving without you, doll," he said tranquilly. "I think we can get you out, but it's going to hurt."
"Hurts now," she pointed out. "It would be better to get out before anything worse happens. I really don't want to be here if anything shifts in a big way. What's the idea?"
"I don't think that the rebar got a big blood vessel. So the plan would be to lift you off the metal, bandage your leg, and I can boost you from behind while Steve helps you from above. We're only down about ten feet, amazingly. Once we get clear, we can get you to a hospital. That new one, St Lukes, is a couple blocks away." She thought about this.
"How are you doing, Bucky?"
"Like I've been bounced around in a cave-in, doll, but it's nothing that the serum isn't helping. I'm in a lot better condition than you are."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"
"Not about something like this, Ava." They looked at each other steadily. "If I did, I could drop you and make our situation much worse. I wouldn't risk that."
"Ok," she said after a moment. "But I have an addition to the plan." He cocked his head. "In my bag is a tourniquet. I took bystander aid training a couple of years ago; it was designed so that bystanders of a mass shooting could help people immediately. It saves lives if people who are shot don't have to wait minutes for EMTs." He nodded. "So just in case, I bought a tourniquet and I keep it in my bag. Haven't had to use it. But you're not positive that a big blood vessel hasn't been torn, and in any case it is still going to bleed. This should help."
"Sure will, doll. But it's going to hurt a lot."
"Yeah, they went into that in the training... But I'd really like to get out of here."
"Ok, Ava. That should be better. Hang on." He scooted back over and reported to Steve. Steve looked doubtful but agreed that this was the best plan. Bucky scooted back and rooted around in Ava's bag for the tourniquet, a black strap with no give, a plastic bar to tighten it, and instructions wrapped around it. He took a moment to refresh his memory, then wrapped the strap firmly around Ava's thigh, just above the puncture, and began tightening. "You ok?" he asked, knowing that she wasn't. She was crying, silently, but nodded. He noted the time that he'd applied the tourniquet; they had a couple of hours before it started to cause problems.
"It hurts, is all," she said. He held her hand again, and she squeezed hard, doing her best to stay still. It was about four minutes before she said she was ready to pull her leg off.
"Let me do it," Bucky requested. "I can draw it off straight, less damage." She nodded and braced herself. Bucky blew out a breath, put on his coat, looked at the way she was laying and the angle of the rebar once more, then swiftly and smoothly pulled her free. She let out a short scream, and there was a gush of blood. He rechecked the tourniquet as she cried in earnest and was able to tighten it a little more, which slowed the blood. Some blood loss was inevitable from the injury before the tourniquet had been applied. Her scarf was thinner than his; he ripped his to make absorbent pads that he placed over her entrance and exit wounds, then tied them to her leg with her scarf. It made a good knot and would help keep debris out of the wound. He wanted to wait a couple of minutes to give her time to recover, but the concrete tipped a little as the pile settled again, and it was time to move. He helped her to the place where she could stand, and she pulled herself up.
It was a slow and painful process; his ribs were killing him, and her leg was a real hindrance. Her condition made her weak. He boosted her up a little ways, she pulled herself up using her good leg and arms, he climbed up, rinse and repeat, sometimes having to take a break, until about four feet from the surface, there was enough room for Steve to go down and he pulled her up, then gave Bucky a hand. It had taken more than forty minutes for them to climb about twelve feet. Once they were both out of the hole, Steve picked up Ava and made his way to the street, free from the rubble. Bucky followed, starting to feel every bruise and cut as his adrenaline wore off. There were people looking and pointing, taking pictures, but no emergency vehicles. It was going to be a long couple of blocks; Ava didn't weigh a lot, but she didn't weigh just a little, either. Well, maybe farther away they could get a cab; there was too much debris on the street for a cab to make it through. She was shaking, tears were running down her face but she didn't seem to notice.
They had reached the corner and Steve was debating about putting Ava into a fireman's carry--the location of her injury meant that it would probably be painful no matter what, but otherwise it would take a long time to carry her close to his chest--when sirens indicated a rapid approach to their position. "You can put me down," Ava suggested, and he carefully set her on her feet. His back was aching.
Five minutes later, they were in a patrol car, headed for the hospital. Bucky had brought up her bag, so she even had her insurance card and a debit card for the co-pay. While Bucky was being checked out and patched up too--three cracked ribs, torn rib cartilage, bruised kidney, deep bruising, superficial damage-- Steve told the police officer what he knew. Then the officer interviewed Bucky when he was released; Bucky made sure to tell him about Ben and gave him a business card for the office, in order to get emergency contact information. Ava had to have surgery to fix her leg and would be kept at least overnight. Bucky was beat, and he and Steve took a cab home. Steve ordered pizza--a large one for each of them, but with different toppings so that they could mix and match--and sent Bucky to bed.
It was too early to sleep, though, it was just past six. So Bucky took a nice long bath, grateful that he had one of the clawfoot tubs that Steve had used in some of the bathrooms. The choices had been tub with a shower head, separate tub and shower, and shower only. Bucky had requested the separate tub and shower; the shower was glassed in and he didn't like shower curtains. He steamed gently in the hot water for an hour; this was interrupted when his cat slipped off the curved rim and fell in the water. She was furious, but the scratches she inflicted healed fairly quickly; his healing factor was getting a real workout today. He got out after that, hunted up Natasha and patted her with a towel to absorb most of the water. Then she ran away from him and started to lick her fur. He sighed, but at least she'd be well hydrated at the end of it. He boosted the heat in the apartment and put his pajamas on, burrowing into bed. Even as tired as he was, it took him awhile to sleep. And he had nightmares.
He woke up early the next day, a little stiff and sore still. The rib cartilage that had torn was mostly mended, but the cracked ribs still hurt. There wasn't any blood in his urine this morning, a signal that the bruised kidneys were healed, and he was grateful for the serum. He usually wasn't. He stretched thoroughly, fed Natasha--she had mostly forgiven him--and got ready for work, stopping for coffee and a croissant before heading to the hospital. At the hospital, he said that he was Ava's boyfriend, which got him admittance to her room. Her breakfast was just being brought in. It looked... kind of gross. There was oatmeal, which she picked at unenthusiastically. "When are you getting discharged?" he asked. "I can bring you home."
"You don't have to, you'll be at work," she said, and the nurse who was updating her chart smiled at her.
"You really should be watched after you're released. Your leg is going to be painful and healing will be tiring," she said, and winked at Bucky. "Honey, if this was my boyfriend--" Ava blushed.
"Thanks, Bucky," she said.
"Come back after one," the nurse said, and left. Bucky waited a moment and after the door closed, gave her the mocha and croissant. Ava brightened and split the croissant with him. And the mocha, although he'd already drank his. The extra caffeine wouldn't hurt, he felt, and she said she was a little queasy from the drugs she'd been given. He said he'd bring a bag for her, her clothes being a total loss, and she gave him her keys.
He left reluctantly and went to work, where he updated Nelson about what had happened and Ava's condition. Ben's wife had been informed of his death by the police, and there was a collection being taken up for flowers for the funeral; he contributed a hundred for both himself and for Ava. He knew she'd want to get in on that but the funeral would likely be soon, closed casket, and she might not be sufficiently mobile. The news had said that nobody had claimed responsibility, but it was being posited that the collapsed garage was meant to take out a subway line but the bombers had messed up; the garage that was over a subway was two blocks down. A company email had gone out about the incident, and Nelson sent him home, saying that both he and Ava were off work until after Christmas.