Frozen Jets
“Nat, come on.” The line stayed silent, Tony didn’t need to see the assassin’s face to know there was an unimpressed look that crossed it. “Two more days, why couldn’t this wait for two more days?”
“Tony, I know you and Steve took the time off months ago, but this debriefing is less than a day and the rest of us aren’t sitting around and waiting for you three to finish your holiday, so we can start the mission.” He sighed but fixed a smile as Peter looked up from his book and smiled gleefully at him. He waved and shot Steve a half-smile.
“Okay, okay. Gimme an hour then I’ll fly over,” Natasha clicked her tongue disapprovingly and he heard the rustle of her hair as she presumably shook her head.
“Were you really not listening? We need everyone.” He frowned and quirked his head to the side as if it were a face to face conversation.
“Buck doesn’t do Hydra missions, and I’m not leaving Pete in the hotel when we’re flying overseas.” As if he would ever leave his eight-year-old in a hotel in Algarve, Portugal while he flew to Russia for a ‘quick mission debrief.’
“Well, this turned out to be a lot bigger than we thought, so Bucky and Steve will do the less involved work like sorting though the files we’ll find when we blow this joint.” He scrunched his face in confusion and rubbed at the resulting crinkles above his eyebrows tiredly.
“So, to get this straight, you want me to fly my husband and son, in the middle of our vacation, to Russia, with a layover in New York to pick Bucky up, so we can all get debriefed on this mission which Bucky won’t want to take part in regardless?” A pause followed, and he waved a hopefully placating hand in Steve’s direction from where his head had snapped up from his sketchbook. ‘I know,’ he mouthed frustratedly, standing and walking over to rest a hand on the man’s shoulder and rubbing tenderly before dropping his forehead against the blonde’s head.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Peter’s going to be fine, he’s always wanted to tag along, and this is a no-risk deal, all you’re doing is flying over for the meeting and then you can head back to Algarve and I’ll convince Fury to give you an extra day off for the trouble.” He huffed and peeked an eye open from Steve’s hair to look over at his son, who was curled up in the covers of the bed and reading his book happily, unaware of the phone call as his eyes skimmed the pages interestedly. “Tony? You all good with that?”
“Gimme a sec,” he leaned back and looked into Steve’s blue eyes, blowing out a breath when the soldier’s face pinched and the ocean-esque irises flooded with confliction. “I’ll call you back, okay? Let me talk to the Capsicle here,” he heard Natasha laughing lightly.
“I thought I could hear you gazing into each other’s eyes through the phone, text me when you’re done.” The line clicked off and he moved to sit by Peter, dropping the phone on the bedside, brushing a sleep-mussed curl from the boy’s face and tilting his chin up gently with a warm smile.
“Hey kiddo, you hungry?” He leant over the side of the bed and fished through the draws on the table when Peter nodded, pulling a bill from his wallet and placing it in his kid’s hand before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You remember where the vending machine is? Just down the hall, don’t forget the key card,” he ruffled the wavy, brown hair and watched as Peter bounded out the door.
He swung around on the bed and kicked himself back to the floor, leaning over Steve’s back lazily and dropping his nose against the broad shoulders and humming idly. The soldier pushed his sketch book aside, along with the pencil, and stretched his neck to make room for Tony.
“She wants us back early, with Petey and Buck?” The mechanic crooned in reply to the question and stood up fully, arching his back and rolling his shoulders with a yawn.
“Yes, she does, but she’s also offering an extra day off to make up for it, so does it really matter?” Steve raised an eyebrow and stood from his chair by the window, resting a finger against Tony’s hand lightly and frowning mildly.
“Not particularly, but it’s one of those things, if we roll over now, who’s to say the next time we take time off, nothing’s stopping them from calling us back in?” The brunette unfurled his hand to accept and laced his fingers with Steve’s, thinking about his next words carefully.
“Okay, I get that, but… if we’re picking Bucky up on the way and presumably dropping him back off, you know Peter’s going to wanna lounge around at the compound with him when we’re done.” Steve huffed out an amused exhale and rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he thought about it.
“Yeah, no doubt. Last time we let him babysit, Peter wrapped himself in tinfoil and stuck all the magnets onto Buck’s arm.” Tony smiled at the memory and looked up to see Steve sighing. “He said it helped him associate the arm with something other than murder, and I know that Natasha wouldn’t ever set him on a mission where he’d get too involved with Hydra again, but he’s still touchy about getting anywhere near them again.”
“I know, that’s why this is strictly a debrief, nothings set in stone here. I’m not letting you two sink into any Hydra case that you don’t feel comfortable with.” The blonde looked down at Tony and smirked with the same look of revenge he always did when he thought about what Bucky had gone through.
“Oh, I’m perfectly content dealing with some Hydra agents, if it means I get to take down another base and throw the shield, I’m all in. The only thing holding me back here is that I don’t want to cut the vacation short just yet.” The mechanic grinned and stepped forward, so they were pressed closer together, chest to chest.
“Ya know, if Peter’s going to latch onto Bucky, and we’re dropping him off on the way back here, I’m sure he’d love to hang out at the compound… we could take the extra day for ourselves?” He wrapped an arm around the back of Steve neck and looked up innocently, as if he weren’t implying anything with the suggestion. “Take a walk on the beach, bottle of wine, watch the sea from the balcony. Just the two of us?” He lifted his remaining arm, dragging it up and along Steve’s side lightly before resting it over the other, which still hung loosely around the nape of the blonde’s neck. Tony met his eyes, smiling in question as his eyebrow raised and he leant back, dipping slightly so he could take in all of Steve’s face which seemed to be pondering the offer.
“We’d have to extend the hotel booking,” he murmured, laying a hand on Tony’s waist to pull him back closer with a returned smile.
“Mhm, billionaire, remember?” He hummed gently and lifted Steve’s chin with the tip of his nose, looking up at him curiously, waiting for an answer less than patiently.
“I couldn’t think of anything better,” he whispered before closing the gap between them for a short period before the clicking of the door handle warned them to pull apart. While Peter flopped back onto the mattress, listening eagerly as Steve explained the change of plans, Tony messaged Natasha to confirm and made sure Bucky knew the jet would pick him up from the compound.
----
Peter had always loved the freedom he had in his Dad’s private jet, he could sit by the window leisurely and watch the clouds flood by, he could wander the isle, alternating between distracting his Dad or stretching out on his Pop’s lap.
Tony read over the initial information they had gotten on the newly developing mission, frowning when it seemed to snowball into a great enough issue that he was pulled away from time with his family. They had gotten some mildly eyebrow raising incidents that pointed towards a rogue soldier, or underground weapons operation, but when Natasha, Clint and Sam had gone into greater depth, they uncovered a much larger situation than any of them had previously planned for. After careful surveillance and multiple covert heat scans of the relatively unassuming, squat building that was hidden away, deep in a Siberian taiga, they concluded it was a previously undiscovered Hydra base. Now him and his family were dragging themselves to New York, then to Russia, then back to New York, and finally, hopefully, him and Steve could haul back to Algarve and soak up the rest of their supposed ‘time-off,’ without interruption. Tony was lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to the mission briefing being over and done with.
Steve scratched lazily at Peter’s scalp, resting his crossed legs and watching his husband scroll through the original information they had gotten on the mission. He lifted his ankles up and rested them delicately onto Tony lap. The mechanic looked up from his device and tilted his head back, so he was making eye contact with Steve as he dropped a free hand, draping it over the blonde’s knee like he had so many other times.
“When do we land?” He asked after a period of comfortable quiet, continuing to card his fingers through Peter’s curls adoringly.
“Only forty minutes, take a load off,” Tony punctuated his suggestion as his hand gently squeezed Steve’s knee. “Relax a bit, once we’ve got Bucky it’s not that long till we’re in Russia, so we can get this over with, kay?” He smiled fondly and settled further back into his chair, swirling the tips of his fingers in circular motions over Peter’s head as he burrowed closer into his lap and smiled against his jacket.
----
They landed, Bucky got on with a face that said Natasha’s call had definitely woken him up and immediately sunk into the nearest seat, lifting his arms so Peter could clamber into his lap and wrap his arms around him in a tight hug,
“I’m pretty sure I just slept for twelve hours straight, and also I broke another one of your punching bags while I was training.” He smirked, nodded in greeting to Tony while directing his words at Steve as he nonchalantly snuck in the fact that he broke the forth punching bag that month into the conversation. “Hey punk, you giving these two a hard time for me?” Peter leaned back and slipped onto the next seat over and leaning against the window, fogging it up with his breath.
“Yep, we saw a baby Iberian Lynx, it was so big though!” He pulled back from the glass to rest his chin on the arm rest and look back at his parents with an exited gleam in his eyes as he pictured the fluffy cub they had seen.
After not much longer, Bucky pulled the arm rest up and rested Peter’s head on his shoulder before looking back and flicking an ‘all good?’ to Tony and Steve, who nodded in reply. The plane didn’t take off and Tony frowned in annoyance, standing to move into the cockpit and fiddle around with the displays.
“Ugh, seriously?” He sat in the front seat and brought up a screen, tapping wildly at the keypad while Steve watched him, confused.
“What’s up?” He asked, slipping into the cockpit to join the mechanic who was huffing bitterly and looking very put out as his fingers danced over the screens and buttons with precision.
“Just a poorly constructed virus trying to hack into the navigation system.” He paused when Steve’s face dropped into a concerned expression. “It’s probably some low-grade programmer trying to mess with the trajectory path and send us to Mexico, happens more often then you’d think.” He rubbed a comforting hand over the blonde’s hip and smiled softly at him when he noted the worried look painting his face. “Hey, it’s all good, this is why I have blockers and systems in place for mediocre hackers. It hasn’t done any harm whatsoever, we’re fine, not even a minor setback, okay?” Tony pulled up the flight path and tapped on the blue dot hovering over the landing base in Russia as proof, before leading Steve back to their seats and closing the cockpit door with his ankle.
“Are we taking off now?” Bucky looked up from where Peter’s head rested on his shoulder, smirking at the two teammates whose hands were linked. Tony nodded and kicked back in his seat, folding one arm behind his head and resting his eyes shut.
Things were comfortable for a good time.
They were halfway through the flight from New York to Russia when Peter poked Tony’s shoulder and held up his device, wiggling into his lap and prodding the screen.
“Dad it’s not working, can you help?” The boy pressed his hand against his cheek so his eye crinkled and he leant his head against his palm lazily, content to watch his Dad fix the device.
“Mm, when did it stop working?” Peter shrugged, “something weird has gotten into it, you didn’t download anything onto it?” He frowned and brought up all the running applications on the device, scrolling through and not finding anything out of the ordinary.
“It was working fine till we took off, then the screen went black and I thought it had lost power but then it came back on and I didn’t think anything was wrong. Now it’s not working again, and I can’t use the internet or anything?” Tony pulled out his own phone and his frown deepened when all of his communications were blocked, similar to Peter’s.
“Steve, Buck, check your phones and see if you can call or message me, something’s up.” Their phones took a moment to switch on, then the dial tones rang for barely a second before each call dropped and an error message displayed on the screens. “Uhm, that’s… not ideal,” Tony muttered, running a hand through his hair and standing up from his seat, shuffling Peter off his lap and settling him in the chair next to Steve.
“Dad?” He ruffled the boy’s hair comfortingly and moved him back in the seat, so he could recline more comfortably.
“Thanks for showing me kiddo, I’m sorting it now,” he promised, moving to the cockpit with the same look on his face that he had when a project in the lab required more attention. “Let’s see what the deal is here…” he said to himself distractedly as he began to investigate the issue.
Steve and Bucky didn’t think much of it, Peter was content to just laze in his Dad’s seat while he tinkered around in the cockpit. Tony would often get side-tracked with technology and mini projects, especially when he was bored or had nothing to do, so him wandering off and repairing random things that were easily fixed wasn’t anything new to the small family.
What was new, however, was the lights in the jet flickering before shutting off completely. Bucky sits up immediately and so does Steve. They hear Tony curse under his breath from the cockpit and Peter lifts his head curiously.
“Tones, what’s happening?” Steve moves to his feet, placing a hand to Peter’s shoulder and pushing gently to get him sitting back down. “Stay in the seat for now, I’m checking on him,” he pushes the door of the cockpit open and Tony doesn’t turn to face him. The interior of the plane is dark, majority of the lights on the dashboard are shut off, only one screen is on and when the gentle hand that Steve presses to the mechanics shoulder guides him in a slow circle so the two are facing, the blue light illuminates his face.
Tony’s hair is wild, it’s clear that he’s run a hurried hand through the locks in either frustration or annoyance. His eyes are wider than they were previously, and his lips are parted so he can chew at the inside of his cheek worriedly. “Hey, what’s going on, you alright?”
“I – I don’t…” the brunette blows a breath as if to calm himself and drags a hand through his hair quickly before continuing. “Everything’s shut off, it’s all operational but it – it’s like something’s blocking me from seeing what’s going on. I mean… it’s everything Steve, radar and primary flight display, direction finder, altitude indicator, even the systems info display is off!” He waves a hand at a dial on the left-hand side of the room and darts his head back to lock eyes with him. “The only thing I can see is the navigation system, but it’s not fully functional, the controls are all locked up, I can’t change the flight path.”
“Is that… is that where Nat said –” Tony cuts him off abruptly and he straightens out stiffly, checking behind the blonde to make sure the door was closed.
“Yes. Yes, it is the base, I don’t know for sure, and I definitely don’t know how the hell they’ve managed to do it, but the jet’s locked onto the base.” Steve flicked his eyes over the flustered and agitated face of his husband before looking back over to the new blue dot that hovered right over the Hydra base, the small green dashes highlighting their trajectory showed that Tony was right, the jet was set to fly around where they were supposed to land and take them directly to a facility packed with Hydra agents.
“The phones, all our devices, the jet’s communication… we can’t contact anyone, everything’s blocked.” Tony looked up at him, his expression unhinged as they took the time to fully comprehend how badly this flight was turning out to be.
“Steve… I can’t see how fast we’re going now, but last I saw we were directly over the Arctic Ocean.” His eyes darted to the glass and looked out into the whiteness, it was all clouds and nothing else. Steve parted his lips to say something, to exude some fraction of positivity, but before he could, Bucky was calling, and the door was being tugged open.
“Tony, Steve, get in here!” Peter threw open the door and almost fell at Tony’s feet with the force that he threw himself into his arms.
“Dad, I don’t like this anymore,” he whined while Steve moved around the two and back into the main cabin where Bucky was now standing.
“Steve, the screens…” Tony had picked Peter up and when he came to stand beside the two soldiers and saw the T.V screens they were staring at, he pushed the boy’s face into his shoulder. “Shit,” Bucky whispered, mimicking the murderous look Steve had alongside where Tony was clenching his jaw.
The two screens projected the same image, a dark skull surrounding with six protruding tentacles which hovered above the short demand.
‘We want the Winter Soldier.’
----
“Absolutely not, we are not doing that Buck.”
“This isn’t something I’m arguing over with you Stevie,” Tony stayed out of it, he had his own opinions, but he busied himself regardless. Peter stayed glued to his side while he unplugged the screens and disable as much of the navigation system as he could, but whatever had hacked and locked the jet in the first place wasn’t exactly the easiest fix, let alone a fast one.
“What, so you’d rather jump out of a plane then take our chances on the ground!” Honestly, Tony could see it from both of their perspectives, there was no way in hell Bucky was particularly fond of taking a field trip to the awaiting Hydra base, but then again, Steve wouldn’t want to end up in the ice again.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying! Tony said the jet automatically sends a distress signal when the interior shuts down, so everyone’s probably already looking for us now, and I’d rather risk exposure to the elements then being used as a weapon again, okay?” Steve stilled from where he was blocking Bucky from the emergency compartment which held parachutes and reached an arm out to rest it on his friends’ shoulder.
“I wouldn’t let that happen, and I know you’d never hurt us.” The comforting hand was shrugged off as Bucky yanked open the compartment and pulled out two parachutes.
“I have no doubt that you’d throw your sacrificial ass on the line for me, but no matter how much you could fight for me, all they’d have to do was say some words and then I’m gone.” Steve opened his mouth to speak but Bucky continued, “it’s not a debate, we’re doing this.” He looked over his metallic shoulder to where Peter’s fingers were clutching at his Dad’s shirt and turned back to the blonde in front of him. “Think about the kid, you really want to argue that parachuting down is more dangerous than landing at a Hydra base and fighting your way out of there while protecting me when you have Peter and Tony to defend too?”
From behind the two, the blank screens that Tony had disabled flickered back on, the symbol and demand flashing back up. The mechanic grunted angrily and tugged the entire screen downward, as if the mere sight of the tentacles would harm the innocent child that still held onto his shirt cuff.
“No, I don’t argue this one… you’re right Buck.” The emphatic bang from behind them had Steve on his feet and rushing towards his kid immediately, Bucky raised his arms as if to fight before dropping them as he realised what was happening.
“Fuck,” Tony threw his phone at the blinking screen, growling heatedly when the symbol didn’t fade from the T.V he thought had been successfully disabled. Steve was at his side instantaneously, Peter not far behind.
“Hey, leave it, okay?” The blonde rubbed up and down his agitated husband’s shoulders, dropping his voice lower and lighter to mollify the mechanic. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, guiding Peter closer to his hip and pulling Tony closer with one arm.
“No, it does matter because all our communications are down, I can’t call my suit, I can’t get the jet on course and this isn’t a stupid debriefing anymore, its Hydra Steve!” Peter made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a soft whine when his voice rose higher, but he bent down and laid a gentle kiss on the crown of the boy’s head as a wordless apology before turning to glare at the screen once more. “They’re taking us right to them, it’s a pointless fight and Peter isn’t getting anywhere near those people,” his quieter voice had lowered to a hiss by the time he finished the sentence.
“I know, trust me, I do. We’re not going to be on this jet when it lands,” Steve folded his finger into the belt loop on Tony’s pants and used his spare hand to guide Peter over to where Bucky had finished pulling out the parachutes. “Buck, I need you to go down with Pete.”
“I don’t want to hurt him if they get to us before we hit the water,” he said mildly, casting his gaze to where the kid had his face tucked away under his Dad’s arm.
“Firstly, I know you wouldn’t do that, and secondly, Hydra’s sloppy, they wouldn’t bother to send anyone over to make sure we landed. They’re overconfident in their ability to mess with the jet and obviously didn’t think we could do this,” Steve manoeuvred Tony and Peter back before lifting his leg up to his chest and kicking out with brutal force.
Tony’ grip on Peter tightened when the emergency exit door flew open and the strong winds from the altitude ripped the entire door off with a snap. When Steve spoke again, he had to yell over the rush of the wind that had begun whipping through the cabin. “Bucky, you and I are the only ones with enough experience jumping out of planes, so you take Peter, and Tony’s going with me.” The wind swallowed some of his words, but Bucky was already pulling the pack onto his back.
“You’re gonna be right behind me and Pops, okay?” Peter’s nose and cheeks were already beginning to tint a rosier shade of pink from the cold of the wind, but Tony pressed his hand against his neck to feel the pulse point and relax himself as Steve hoisted his own parachute on.
Peter’s lips moved, but over the roar of the wind Tony couldn’t hear what he was saying until he crouched and pulled the boy’s head onto his shoulder, so his breath tickled against his cheek.
“Is it goin’ to be cold?” Even underneath the howling and whistling of the air rushing past the jet, he could hear exactly how timid Peter was. The mechanic picked up his hand and rested it over the thud of his heart as he spoke.
“Maybe kiddo, maybe. After we get the parachutes off, you swim over to me and I’ll make sure you’re okay while we wait for Nat and everyone else.” He squeezed the smaller hand reassuringly and pulled Peter in for an embrace before Steve was helping their kid into Bucky’s arms, so the pack was secured around them both.
“Everything’s going to be alright Pete, you and Buck are jumping right after us.” Once Steve was confident that Tony was tucked securely against him, he moved to wrap an arm around his side and lean to rest his forehead against Peter’s. “We’re going to be okay kiddo, I promise,” they stayed in the hug for as long as they could before Tony was gripping his arm and whispering something about time.
“If we’re doing it, this needs to happen now, before they take us any higher.” Looking out the broken door, Steve could see how the jet was only just underneath the clouds, he could see the water if he stepped closer to the edge, but logically, he knew that if anyone tapped into the camera feeds and figured out they were jumping, they could pull the whole thing higher so jumping was unsafe. “We gotta go now, Pete, Buck, you’re right behind us once we’ve gone.” Bucky nodded and the look of steely determination on his face and the way he had a protective arm holding Peter gave Tony comfort, knowing his kid was safe.
“I’m taking us to the edge Tones, dangle your legs out, I’m holding on.” Steve knew that the mechanic wasn’t put off by heights, considering how often he used the suit to get around, but he was very aware that the combined stress of not being by Peter and the knowledge that once they hit the water, there was probably a fifteen-minute window before hypothermia made swimming impossible. He prayed Natasha had gotten the automated distress signal.
Tony’s legs hovered outside the door and Steve had a white-knuckled grip on his arm and the handle beside the door. “You ready?” He called over the wind, wrapping his arm over his husband’s middle and tugging him impossibly closer.
“It’s now or never Cap, I got you,” he felt the brunette clasping their hands together and when he leaned back to check over the other pair, a strange calm overtook him.
Peter’s hair was unbrushed and windswept, considering they had left the hotel in a rush and he had spent majority of the flight to New York with his Pops carding fingers through it. Bucky was gripping the seat and had crouched lower, so Peter’s shorter legs weren’t perched on tip-toes. He looked forward and could eye the choppy surface of the water far below them and through the tangle of Tony’s hair.
“I love you,” he said, to both nobody and all three of the boy’s around him before he was letting himself and Tony pitch forward until the expensive carpeting of the jet wasn’t underneath him anymore and the roaring of the wind grew.
----
Bucky waited all of two seconds for Steve and Tony to reach a safe enough distance for him to jump out behind them. He tucked Peter closer and shuffled to the edge, fully prepared to roll out of the jet without a second thought.
“U – Uncle Bucky…” Peter’s voice was soft at his ear, and he momentarily paused as he felt the boy scrabbling for something to grip onto.
“Pete what are y –” He was cut off when his own arm snapped out to grip the wall as the jet lurched. The open doorway, and their exit from the jet, tilted to the side and gravity seemed non-existent as his whole body fell backwards. Peter shrieked in fear and his hands shot up from where they had been clutching the carpet, so he was holding Bucky’s wrist when they toppled away from the door. “Shit!”
Bucky cursed, and Peter gasped while they tumbled across the floor, only coming to a stop as his metal arm flew out and latched onto an armrest. “Pete you got me, we’re going now,” he pulled himself up and it felt like he was climbing a hill as he ploughed forward, towards the opening while simultaneously attempting to figure out why everything was tilting wildly.
“We’re moving! They turned the jet!” Peter’s panicky voice was shrill and high while he kicked out at the floor and wrapped his legs up around the soldier’s torso, so Bucky could stand fully without hurting him. The boy was right, somehow, the jet had jerked both upward and to the side, so the pair fell further in and away from their escape. “No! Dad and Pops jumped!” Peter was wriggling now, while Bucky was still trying to pull them back toward the door.
“I know, we need to – Ah!” The jet lurched again, and he lost his footing as everything seemed to turn completely on its side so the windows lining the walls became the floor. He pressed his arm against the floor and pushed himself up from the wall, or what was now the floor.
“Th – the screen!” Peter’s cry made him look up from where he was trying to figure out where the door had relocated, and his eyes immediately locked onto the now sideways T.V screens that Tony had previously tried to disable.
‘Stay in the jet until you’ve landed, and the child sees his parents again.’ The white text flashed across the monitor. Peter whimpered from where he was strapped to Bucky’s chest, and he brought a spare hand up to cover his eyes.
“Don’t read it kid, we’re gonna be fine, they aren’t taking you from Steve and Tony.” He turns the boy’s head against his neck and uses the headrest of a seat to pull them to their feet.
‘Stand down Soldier.’ He scowled at the screen and pulled Peter closer to his torso, turning them both away from the offending threats.
“We’re good, we’re okay, everything’s fine.” He hated lying, but they had, at the most, one or two hours before they landed at the base, and he was confident that they would find some way out of the jet by then. A thought crossed his mind, if he detached himself from the pack and aimed well enough, he could probably get Peter out of the door before the jet tilted again. He didn’t even toy with the concept for more than a second, the fact was, that they had climbed too high and Steve had jumped more than a minute ago. Peter wasn’t going to be left treading water on his own in the middle of the Arctic Ocean without his parents, it wasn’t fair, and it was probably worse than the possibility of them landing at the stupid base.
“The window,” the whisper at his ear had him uncovering Peter’s eyes and looking down at him carefully, before what he meant was clicking. The window they were leant against was barely big enough for them to fit out, and if he kicked it, they would get cut up by the glass on their way out, not to mention the possibility of the parachute ripping. “I want Dad,” the kid said quietly, and Bucky could see the watery look in his eyes as they flickered back to the screens which still projected the Hydra symbol proudly.
“I know bud, it’s gonna be a tight fit though.” Peter curled his legs to his torso and balled himself up against Bucky, shrinking smaller than before. He took a breath before bracing himself against the wall and lifting his leg. “We really doing this?” He asked, watching the little head nod against his neck before kicking out at the window.
It took three blows and less than six seconds before the jet angled upward and he was slipping away from the cracked glass with a frustrated yell. Peter yelped and rolled them to the side just before a pitcher of water from one of the tables was smashing where their heads have been. “Damn it!” He pulled them into a corner as all the loose objects in the jet fell toward the back where they were pressed against the wall.
‘Stand. Down.’ The screens flashed in warning and he paid them no attention as he ripped the pack off himself and held it out in front of Peter’s head as the cutlery and glasses from the bar smacked the wall next to them. The jet was steadily climbing higher and he continued to shuffle Peter further into the corner, trying to shelter him from the never-ending onslaught of décor and in-flight drinks smashing around them. A vase clipped his non-metal arm and he grunted, using the parachute to push away the shards of ceramic and glass.
The screaming of the wind grew to a peak as things began to fly out of the open door and partially cracked window. Bucky cursed again and looped his metal arm into a seatbelt, gripping Peter’s hoodie and holding him tightly as the altitude grew to a substantial height.
“A – air,” Peter huffed, reaching out to hold the metal arm and wrap an elbow around Bucky’s neck as the pressure differential pulled him towards the hole where the door was. His small arms dug in sharply, but the soldier would prefer tiny finger marks then empty arms and Peter falling without a parachute. “N – not enough… air at this a – altitude,” the boy gasped and buried his face further into Bucky’s shoulder, his chest heaving with the effort to pull in the rapidly decreasing oxygen in the cabin.
“Stop, I’ll stay till we land – lower the… lower the jet,” he dropped his head against the wall and watched as the seat cushions were ripped out of the window, tearing open as they caught on the glass and spilling stuffing into the sky. The screens didn’t answer, the same tentacles and skull stared back at him while Peter began to slump in his arms and the rushing of the wind decreased as the edges of his vison went grainy.
Peter couldn’t see much from where his face was pressed in Bucky’s shoulder, he could barely make out the silver arm tangled in a seatbelt and the feeling of his cheek slowly sliding downward along with his eyelids fluttering shut.
----
The force of the wind was immediate, Steve could feel Tony’s body twisting around in the air before he pulled the cords and let the parachute fly. He could feel arms around his neck and Tony’s cheek against his as the pack opened with a burst and there was a jolt at his shoulders. The pair’s descent slowed, but not enough to make the landing less of a shock. At the last moment, Steve turned on his side so his shoulder took the first plunge into the water and Tony’s back didn’t carry the full brunt of the impact.
The force of the landing tore his breath away as the two plunged into the sea. Before Tony even opened his eyes, all he could feel was the cold. It was icy and piercing to his system, he opened his mouth to gasp before his eyes snapped open and through the dark, he remembered where exactly he was and why taking a breath was the worst thing he could do right then. The parachute had slowed the fall enough that hitting the water didn’t kill them, but his body was screaming as he looked around blindly, searching for the surface through the silence. For a moment, all he could see was the dirty floor of the tub the Ten Rings had plunged his head into while water flooded up his nose and down his throat painfully.
He jerked when hands gripped his shoulder’s, the fingers slipped down to his upper arms and then he was being pulled in a direction he couldn’t discern while bubbles danced around his head. When he broke what must have been the surface, he gasped and heaved, choking on residue water that dripped from his hair and upper lip.
“F – f – fuck,” he spluttered, coughing as a mouthful of salt water crashed over his head while the parachute drifted down around him and floated on the surface of the water. The hands around his arms were connected to a person, and when he saw the ironically oceanic eyes and flash of blonde hair, he lunged at Steve. “H – hey,” he managed as he forced his legs to start pumping under the water to keep him afloat while his body instinctively wrapped around Steve’s chest.
“H – hold up, I ne – need to…” his fingers were fumbling, and Tony looked down to see the pack still strapped to Steve’s back, secured around his front where he must have been held up until they hit the water.
“S – sor – sorry,” he gagged as a handful of water flicked up his nose and into his eyes when the straps of the pack unclipped and sent another small wave toward his head. “H – here, l – lemme do it,” he tugged at the bag and it loosened from Steve’s back, immediately sinking under the surface, slowly beginning to pull the fabric of the parachute with it. When he locked eyes and stopped kicking for a moment, enraptured by the vastness of the ocean that surrounded them, his head fell underwater again. The material flowed like silk around them, and he could see where Steve’s jacket was riding up while he kicked.
“T – Tony!” He felt the hands at his chest again and he was being pulled upwards by his collar and pulled into Steve’s chest as his brain caught up while he began to kick again. “D – don’t do th – that,” the soldier choked out, spinning the mechanic around so his head rested against his shoulder and kept it above water. “S – s’ colder than I th – thought,” he gasped, breathing heavily and pushing his face into Tony’s wet hair, burying his nose at the nape of his neck and tightening his hold.
“Y – you gotta t – take the jacket off,” he coughed, reaching his arms between them and struggling with the zip.
“C – calm down, w – we’re not back at A – A – Algarve yet,” Steve laughed light-heartedly before choking on more water and pausing to shiver between coughs.
“W – weighs – you down when it’s w – wet,” Tony insisted, tugging at the zipper more decisively. He peeled away the jacket with numb fingers before digging them up and under Tony’s shirt, searching for the buttons to undo it. “S – someone’s a b – bit e – eager,” he mimicked Steve’s laugh before shivering violently as he felt the man’s icy fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt and popping open the first button.
“W – why does everything you wear have s – s – so many bu – buttons.” It took a minute to pull away Tony’s overshirt, so he was left in the lighter top. When the shirt sunk off one arm, his kicking slowed so he could tug it off the other, and he subsequently dropped lower so his mouth went under the surface and Steve pulled him back up before it could cover his nose. “C – come here, I – I’ll keep you u – up,” the water lapped at his chest when he pulled Tony’s head back against his shoulder. He made sure the billionaire’s chin was tucked securely between his neck and collarbone before he let a single arm fall away to aid his kicking.
“N – not the most ideal t – temp, h – h – huh?” Salt stung his eyes when he huffed a breathy chuckle at Tony’s remark. “Y – you g – good?” The brunette clawed at Steve’s back when a harsh wave splashed over their heads and pulled them both under, an unseen current tugged around their bodies and Steve lifted his chin when Tony’s hip jabbed at his side while he began to kick again. When he pulled them both back up and breached the surface, the mechanic was gagging again while seawater dripped from his nose.
“S – sorry,” he panted, lifting his husband higher so their heads were almost at the same height. “You g – gotta keep k – kicking with me,” Tony’s head dropped against his forehead and Steve could see each little puff of air he exhaled with a small cloud against his neck.
“Wh – where’s P – Pete,” Tony gasped, finally expelling the last of the water from his throat before lifting his head and twirling around in Steve’s hold. Even tilting his neck back and scouring the clouds above them, there was no jet, no matching parachute, not even the distant noise of an engine or the familiar mop of honey curls dancing amongst the waves. “P – Peter! Kiddo? Petey!” He stopped kicking for a moment and Steve exerted more energy into his swimming to make up for Tony’s instantaneous panic. “Peter!” He was twisting so much that he nearly slipped out of the blonde’s arms.
“Hey, Tony. Tones? Hey,” he reached a spare arm up to cup Tony’s face and pull his wild gaze downward back to his. “W – we’ll find him, it’s okay, they probably j – jumped a little later and landed further away then we expected,” Steve rubbed small circles over Tony’s cheekbone while the initial fright faded.
“No, no, Steve, it’s empty, they aren’t anywhere, there’s no parachute or anything.” Now Tony was gripping his shoulders tightly and whipping his head from side to side, desperately trying to see something, anything, that could possibly be his kid.
“You need to calm d – down Tony, they’re o – okay.” The adrenaline might have been keeping the frantic billionaire in a state of panicky heat, but Steve was starting to struggle with the effort it was taking to force his freezing legs to move and keep them both afloat. “B – Bucky wouldn’t let a – any… anything happen to Pete, t – trust me.” Tony was still perching himself on Steve’s shoulders and craning his head to look for a flash of metal or the flicker of wide, hazel eyes that he knew so well.
“Steve… w – what if they didn’t jump? Th – the jet could’ve –”
“H – hey, hey, we’re not going to d – do that. Don’t do the worst-case scenario, n – none of that.” He could see the adrenaline giving way to the anxiety and Tony was starting to sag in his arms, likely from the slow ebbing feeling of the icy water licking at his skin and seeping into his veins. “J – just try t – to stay c – calm, k – kay? L – look at me,” he pulled closer when Tony slid down and remembered to kick. His eyes swivelled from the choppy waters and met Steve’s eyes.
“S – sorry, I’m c – calm, I am. It – s’ just… y – yeah, t – too cold,” Tony shuddered again, and his teeth chattered when he pressed his nose against Steve’s neck. “Th – they better h – have c – coffee at the s – stupid debriefing,” he huffed, his lingering humour in the face of pain always holding strong.
“I – if they don’t, I’ll g – get you one, f – from the p – place you like,” his breathing started to shudder like Tony’s, and he blearily wondered if the mechanic was suffering the bite of the cold faster than he was. “Y – you’re c – colder than me,” he murmured, his quivering lips brushed Tony’s cheek when he spoke.
“B – barel –” a gust of wind cut him off as another wave was blown towards them. Of course, Tony went under before Steve did, and of course he was the one who didn’t make it to the surface before he was swallowing a mouthful of salt water. When the lurking current caught his lower-half, he drifted down far enough that his thrashing legs brushed against the fabric of the still sinking parachute and he gave a full-bodied flinch before Steve was hauling him to the surface again. He expelled at least a lungful of water before he was coughing again, and his hands fisted in Steve’s shirt. “A – as I was s – saying, b – barely.” His persistent shivering was worrying, but it meant that the serious stages of hypothermia hadn’t been reached yet, so despite how painful it was to watch Tony shaking in his arms, he knew it was better than stillness.
“K – keep kicking, f – for me,” he dropped his forehead against the brunette’s head, squeezing him closer and trying to shelter his face from the arctic wind. His throat was burning along with his eyes, but he focused on the feeling of Tony’s breaths against his pulse point and ignored the way he was still gasping every few seconds. “C – can you b – breathe okay?”
“H – hurts m’ chest, but I’m f – fine,” he quivered and pulled his arms up around Steve’s neck, drawing them closer even through their legs would knock together when they kicked. It was so much colder than he thought it would have been, and a selfish part of him was glad Peter wasn’t in the water with them right now, because he didn’t think he could handle seeing the boy’s damp curls framing his face in contrast to his too-pale skin.
“Y – your lips are going b – blue,” Steve sounded concerned, but Tony didn’t think he needed to be, considering how the numbness that started in his fingers and toes was beginning to travel to his chest and legs. “H – hey, k – kick, don’t s – stop moving babe, n – not much longer.” Steve waved a hand under the water to keep them steady while he waited for Tony to start kicking again, but he didn’t, his face stayed buried in his neck and he wasn’t even attempting to swim anymore. “T – Tony? C – come on,” his voice croaked as salty water sprayed up his nose as a smaller wave brushed past them.
“M – m’ what?” Tony groaned, and his head drooped listlessly, his forehead dragged down Steve’s chest and he didn’t get a chance to pick the head back up before the mechanic’s face dropped into the water and he came to, moments later with a fractured coughing fit. “F – fuck, s – s’ cold,” to Steve’s disappointment, Tony didn’t shiver when he spoke, and he didn’t seem any more coherent. He retched and drops of salt water fell from his lips, washing away with the current.
“S – stay with m – me,” he pulled Tony’s arms up and tucked them between both of their chests, wrapping an arm around him securely and holding his lips and nose well above the water. “I kn – know it’s cold, b – but you gotta stay w – with me here, n – no sleeping on the job.” He hoped he could pull a weak laugh from his husband, but Tony stayed quiet, his fingers were loosening from the grip he had on Steve’s shirt and the soldier lowered his arm to shake him gently. “Tony? Co – come on. Tony!” He jostled the billionaire a bit more feverishly, almost stopping the constant pumping of his legs in pure thankfulness when glazed brown eyes fluttered open at his chest.
“W – what? Where’s Peter, S – Steve?” Tony blinked sluggishly, and his limbs seemed to loosen as his cheek lulled against the broad shoulders. He was exhausted, it was obvious, but Steve didn’t want him to fall asleep. He didn’t know how long he could keep them both afloat for, and he didn’t want Tony underwater while unconscious, especially considering the hypothermia that was beginning to impact them both.
“St – stay awake and we’ll f – find him,” he tried to keep his gaze on Tony’s eyes as they bobbed up and down in the water, but he could still regretfully make out how his lids were slipping shut again. “H – hey, d – don’t go silent on m – me,” shaking his husband did nothing this time around, his head flopped until it was completely supported by Steve’s chest. He shivered as Tony’s nose brushed against his collarbone and he hoped neither of them got frostbite.
Steve didn’t know how much longer he tried to keep them above water for, but he could feel his legs cramping and the numb tingle reaching from his toes and slowly, clawing its way upward. He counted three more times a wave pulled them under, and each time he had to tilt Tony’s head to drain the water from his throat. By the fourth time they went under, his legs were faltering and the most he could do was hold his breathe and try to keep Tony’s head higher than his own.
He blew out through his nose and watched the bubbles rising upward and clinging to Tony’s bare arms, everything was eerily clear, even through the burn of the salt in his eyes. He clutched the man closer and closed his eyes, praying that wherever Peter and Bucky were, it wasn’t the ocean.
----
When Peter opened his eyes, he couldn’t see Bucky’s metal arm fisted in the seatbelt anymore, but he could feel something touching his face and brushing against his lips each time he took a breath. He groaned, but it was high-pitched and sounded more like a whine. When he rolled on his side and his back rested against the carpet, he felt a weight falling from his chest. He slouched his head to the side and saw Bucky, who was blinking hazily while securing his own mask.
“Mm?” He felt strangely lethargic, but he still managed to lift a heavy arm and drop it atop Bucky’s shoulder, prompting the soldier to turn to face him.
“Hey kiddo, just take some deep breaths,” his voice was slightly muffled from under the oxygen mask, it was also strained like he had only just pulled it on. Peter turned his head to see that the jet was filled with deployed masks, each dangling over the skeletons of seats which were no longer covered by plush cushions. “Breathe Pete, the mask helps.” He sucked in and his foggy head started to clear, the dazed look in Bucky’s eyes seemed to be receding too.
“Wh – what happened?” Ignoring the way his voice came out croaked, he watched Bucky eyeing the screens and looking out the still cracked window, checking for something.
“Jet went too high, ran out of air. We’re descending now, I can see the water… but we need to stay in here till we land.” Bucky sounded both irritated and nervous, but he shuffled so Peter could sit up and lean against the wall.
“What ab – about Dad and Pops?” He felt an arm tugging him closer and then Bucky was letting him rest his head against his shoulder comfortingly.
“I – I… I’m not sure kid. The distress call should’ve gone out, so they’ll be okay. I promise,” his heart clenched when Peter sniffled quietly and wrapped his small hand around his wrist.
“What about us? Pops said we wouldn’t be on here when it landed…” if he leant over Bucky he could see the water too, and the underside of the clouds they must have flown beneath.
“I’m not going to let them hurt you if we land.” Peter looked up at him with a frightened look on his face.
“Who are they?” He clamped his jaw and looked back to the screen with an accusing expression.
“Just… bad people,” he answered quietly, tilting Peter’s body so he wasn’t facing the screens. The boy repositioned himself easily, squeezing Bucky’s wrist as if he understood, but he didn’t think an eight-year-old could understand Hydra, even if he was smart for his age. He wanted to assure the kid that nothing bad was going to happen to them, or that the rest of the team would get to them before the jet landed, but he couldn’t guarantee any of that and he didn’t want to lie.
“I won’t let them make you go away,” Peter said into his shoulder.
“What do you mean?” He watched as the kid’s face scrunched in thought, thinking of how to explain it.
“I heard you, when you said that they would say words then you’d be gone. I’ll stop them from taking you away.” Somehow, Peter’s misunderstanding and poorly placed optimism made him smile, and he rested his hand on the boy’s head and smiled lightly.
“Sure thing kiddo, I’ll do the same for you,” the jet evened out as he spoke, and he assumed they had descended enough to be safe. “I’m taking my mask off to see if there’s air, only take yours off if I tell you it’s okay.” He peeled the mask away from his face and lifted it off his head, so it bounced on the cord it hung from. The air had a chill to it that could only come from the Arctic ocean, but it was breathable, and he pulled Peter’s mask off for him.
They sat in relative silence, Peter fidgeted every so often, he played with the carpet but kept one hand around Bucky’s wrist the whole time.
----
“ – ny? Tony, you with us?” His head pounded, and his fingers felt stiff, he couldn’t be bothered to force his eyes open, so he settled on a bubbly groan and scrunched them further shut. “Can we take the mask off him yet?” He turned his head against whatever the soft thing underneath him was and faced the familiar voice.
“Rhodey?” His voice cracked but he still felt as a hand rested on his arm.
“Yeah Tones, it’s me, Steve’s to your left. Nat, Clint and Sam are somewhere around too.” He unscrewed his eyes and tried to pry them open when he heard Steve’s name, but it took considerable effort.
“Hey,” Steve spoke softly, he sounded a few steps away, but Tony still smiled warmly. Once he finally willed one of his eyelids to open enough for him to see, he could make out Steve’s face across from his.
“Hi Cap, how long was I out for?” He winced when his voice came out hoarse and strained, but the burn of salt water wasn’t stinging when he opened his mouth anymore, and he could feel thick fabric draped over his body, so he gathered they weren’t still floating.
“We all showed up right before Steve went under, we got you two stable and you’ve been out for about an hour.” Rhodey answered for him, and Tony assumed that talking was as draining for Steve as it was for him, so he relented to a nod before closing his eyes again. “We picked up your jet on our radar, we’re gaining on it now, you’re in the Quinjet.” He wrenched his eyes open again and compelled his aching body to sit up.
“Peter. Where’s Pete and Bucky?” He blinked rapidly as his head adjusted to the sudden movement and Rhodey put a hand on his shoulder to stop the swaying.
“They’re okay, still in the jet, just under two hours away from landing, we’ll get to them before they do. Once we’re close enough to them we can try to hack in to get a message to them.” He relaxed and tilted to the side, so he could get a better look at Steve, who was also beginning to sit up in his bed. “You can take the mask off but don’t walk around too much.” Rhodey put the mask aside as Steve pulled it off his face and shoved the covers off himself. “Go slow Cap,” he warned before the solider was swinging his legs off the bed and moving over to Tony.
“You scared the crap out of me,” he muttered while he pulled Tony’s head against his chest. “Don’t do that again, ever.” He tilted Tony’s head to the side in the embrace, so his mask wasn’t disrupted. The warmed oxygen helped to dislodge the cold weight that seemed to fill his torso, and he took it in greedily, letting Steve’s chest support him as he breathed in and out, knowing they weren’t going to let that jet land.
“Sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise.” He smiled innocently as he heard the blonde laugh, he closed his eyes and hummed happily when he felt a gentle kiss being pressed to his forehead. His fingers inched toward his mask, reaching to pull it off, but Steve laid a hand overtop and shook his head.
“You were worse off when they got us out, you need the humidified oxygen a lot more than I do Tony, keep it on at least till we’ve got eyes on the jet.”
“Okay,” he dropped the arm, but only so he could subtly brush his fingers against Steve’s until the man picked his hand up and squeezed gently. “How far from them are we?”
“Twenty minutes,” Steve murmurs into his hair, clasping Tony’s hand a little tighter in hopes of getting him to relax for those twenty minutes.
Steve stayed where he was, leant against the side of Tony’s bed and holding his hand while he watched the mask fog each time the brunette took a breath.
Tony was content to keep his head rested against Steve’s chest while the Quinjet slowly closed that gap between them, Peter and Bucky.
----
“Um, B – Bucky?” He lifted his head from where it had dropped to lean on the wall and followed Peter’s finger. “The screen’s doing something… a – are we landing?” The T.V was flickering, the Hydra symbol was covered by multi coloured static before the whole thing went blank.
“No, we shouldn’t be landing, it’s too soon.” Text appeared and for a moment, Bucky thought it was going to be another threat from Hydra.
‘Incoming Signal. Call request successful.’ He sat both himself and Peter up more, pulling them back behind the nearest seat to shield them from the screen as the blackness swirled into a picture he didn’t care to see.
“Peter? Bucky?” The boy pressed against his side perked up as the tension eased from his body. “It’s us, we’re behind you, we intercepted the screens. Where are you?” Peter was squirming beside him, and he held the kid back with one hand as he peered out from behind the seat, checking the screen before he saw Steve staring back. “Buck?”
“Pops!” Peter threw himself over Bucky and scrabbled over the seat until he was falling gracelessly in front of the screen and staring up at Steve.
“Peter!” He could hear Tony’s voice from somewhere offscreen and then he was standing and moving beside Peter again, keeping a hand on his arm in case the jet tilted suddenly again.
“Dad?” The screen shifted, and he could see Tony ripping an oxygen mask from his face and reaching out to hold what must have been a laptop.
“Peter, Bucky, we don’t have much time till you fly over land, we need to get you out before then. I’m going to hit the engines and you need to jump out before you hit the water.” Natasha’s voice cut in from the screen and from the looks on Tony and Steve’s faces, they had already discussed it and they weren’t happy.
“I know it’s going to be cold kiddo, but you have to jump before you go down, Pop’s is going to get you out as soon as you jump, okay?” Tony’s face was pinched, and it was clear he didn’t want either of them jumping.
“I’ve got him guys, we’re going to be fine.” He lifted Peter, so the boy was clinging to his front and slowly walked as close to the door as he could manage. “Just a little friendly-fire, take us down Nat.” He gripped the seat and through the hole where the door used to be, he could hear the engines of the Quinjet somewhere behind them.
“I’m hitting the left engine first, brace yourselves.” He crouched down on her word and braced himself and Peter against one of the seat skeletons, holding the frame until his knuckles were white and he could feel Peter doing the same. There was nothing for a moment, then the tell-tale sound of the Quinjet releasing a shot, before the entire jet rocked and shuddered as the engine caught fire. “You guys good if I hit the right one now?”
“Yeah,” he gritted out through a clenched jaw, pulling Peter’s body impossibly closer as the second shot rung out and they jolted once again. Something was beeping in warning from the cockpit, but he didn’t spare a glance, he focused on tracking how close they were getting to the water through the billowing smoke that poured from the engines.
The water seemed to be rising to meet them, and for every second that passed, Bucky could make out more and more of the choppy surface. He could see Peter doing the same thing as him, but the boy continued to turn and look to his parents every few seconds, he could hear Tony and Steve calling out assurances, but his eyes stayed glued on the water below them, trying to calculate when they should jump.
“Pete, get ready,” he warned carefully.
When he did jump, he felt Peter’s fingers tightening and the ferocity of the chilled air rushing past them as he tilted to the side and they hit the water.
From the force of the impact, they sunk low enough under the surface that they were still under when the jet, with its still burning engines, slammed into the ocean. Luckily, it was a safe enough distance away from them that Bucky had enough time to drag them above the surface and start to swim them out before the waves it caused pulled them back under.
Peter was coughing and already shivering against his chest, but he swam with his metal arm and both legs, making sure to keep the boy against his torso so he had some heat. “You okay kid?”
“Y – yeah. I can s – see Pops, n – nearly here.” He looked up as he paddled and true to Peter’s word, he could see Steve on the ramp of the Quinjet, seconds away from pulling them up.
“I told you th – they’d be fine,” he said while Peter’s teeth continued to chatter vehemently, and Steve was already reaching out an arm to help him up the platform. He accepted the hand and let Peter cling to him while he got his feet onto the metal and let Steve guide them both to warmer clothes and a bed where Tony was sitting, looking like he’d bolt from it as soon as he saw Peter.
“Pete,” he let the boy jump from his arms and wrap around Tony while Steve thanked him relentlessly.
Looking around the room where Tony was fussing over Peter’s soaked hair, Steve was pulling heating packs out of nowhere and he was wrapping a blanket around himself, he knew that taking down the last Hydra base wouldn’t serve as much of a hassle.
Showdown or not, they would always come out on top, and everyone knew it.