return
One moment, everything was normal.
The next, everything was quiet.
And then everything exploded.
And everything went black.
Peter couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything except a loud rushing sound. He remembered that documentary he had watched about wind tunnels and wondered if this is what they sounded like.
And he could feel the world slipping away underneath his feet. His stomach clenched and he could feel himself falling but there was nothing he could shoot with his webs and there was nothing he could hang onto and he was just falling and that’s when the panic set in.
Pain crept its way through his limbs, starting in his toes and fingers, quickly making its way through his whole body. It was like Titan again but somehow worse. Because now it was faster and it quickly became far too much to handle. Peter’s mind throbbed with dizziness and his thoughts were slurred and he wondered vaguely if he was dying or just passing out.
He felt a familiar hand grab his.
Bucky wasn’t sure if Peter needed him or if he needed Peter. Probably both.
And when Peter’s hand went limp, Bucky grabbed him and pulled him close. “I won’t leave you,” he whispered into Peter’s ear, knowing full well that even if the teen were conscious, he wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the overwhelming sound as they fell further and further into the unknown.
A blinding white light followed a crashing sound. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, but they were still sore from the visual overload. He hadn’t seen light in four years.
And suddenly his feet felt the ground. He opened his eyes. There was dust all around him. He looked at his body, which was slowly materializing out of the swirling, drifting debris in the stale Titan air.
Bucky couldn’t feel anything. Everything was numb as he watched clouds of ash slowly come together to form his fingers and arms and body. He moved his fingers. They worked! He laughed with excitement, elated to feel his own warm breath on his skin. His real, actual skin. Heck, he was even happy to see this old metal arm again, if it meant he was alive.
Bucky sat up. “Peter.” The name fell off his lips so naturally; he said it without even thinking and then it sunk in... Peter.
Where was he?
Peter?
Bucky stumbled forward, still dizzy. Everything around him was fuzzy and then a strong and familiar arm caught him.
“Bucky?” The broken voice whispered.
He blinked, clearing his blurry vision. “Steve.”
And then Bucky’s little brother who had long since outsized him grabbed him and pulled him into a long-overdue embrace. Bucky laughed, his warm breath tingling comfortingly against Steve’s neck and Steve Rogers just held his friend tighter because my god he was alive it took four years but he was really alive he was ok and everything was going to be ok now.
Bucky could feel Steve’s body shaking lightly and he knew his friend was crying but he pretended not to notice. Steve had been through too much. They all had.
And when they finally broke apart a minute later, the first thing to escape Bucky’s lips was a hushed, wary question, “Where’s Peter?”
“Peter? The spider kid?”
Bucky nodded and looked around. Finally, he saw the teen lying unconscious a few yards away. He rushed over, Steve following close behind him.
Peter was lying face up, his eyes closed. Bucky knelt down next to his little brother’s lifeless body and helplessly grabbed his shoulder.
“Peter,” he called, desperately shaking the teen.
No response.
“C’mon Pete, you gotta wake up.”
Finally, slowly, he came to. “Bucky?” He spoke groggily, then sat up and fell into his friend’s warm and strong embrace, laughing joyfully as he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s back. “We did it,” Peter said. “We won.”
Steve looked in baffled surprise at the spectacle before him, the spider-kid and his best friend, a bro-hug like they were brothers, their chemistry sudden and unexpected but unsurprising. Of course Bucky would see Peter as a little brother. The kid didn’t need protection any more than Bucky did, he could fend for himself just fine, but it made perfect sense that the two of them would find solace in each other.
Peter looked up at Steve and thanked him, knowing that it would never be enough to fully express his gratitude but it was better than nothing.
“Where’s Mr. Stark?” he asked.
And Steve felt a cold hand clench his heart. Of course the kid didn’t know. And of course he had to be the one to tell him.
Steve looked at Peter, pain in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Peter. He died saving the world.”