Asthma
Bucky thought he would never hear that sound again, not in his life time, not after the serum.
“Steve?”
It was the asthmatic wheezing that meant that was someone was having trouble to breathe, that things were bad. It was not the horror of no sound, at least a wheeze meant that the person was still moving some air, but they could be getting close no breathing at all, which was the most horrible situation possible.
But it was not Steve, of course it wasn't Steve. Steve was healthier than any one of them now, Steve could weather even being frozen and still be okay. No, it was someone else who had a distressed look in the midst of the dust. Someone Bucky had got to know in this time and age, someone with a bad past like him.
“Loki? It's just me, man. You okay?”
Loki and Bucky had become fairly friendly. They were both in some sort of limbo – not technically an Avenger, but were called when help was needed. They both had exactly one (and only one) person that defended them and what they did in the past to the others, and told the world that they were better now.
Bucky didn't know if he was all that better now. He did think that whatever had been done in Wakanda had worked, but sometimes he felt himself slipping. Distant from his own self and from the image everyone had of him. Steve still thought he could go back to being who he was when they were young, and some SHIELD people kept expecting him to slip back into Winter Soldier mode. And he was neither of those things, not anymore.
Loki was more complicated, more... delicate than him and his opposing personalities. Instead of two, Loki had a million personalities. And everyone kept expecting him to betray them, try to take over the world. Bucky was convinced that part of why he didn't was to spite them. But there was a lot of expectations for him, too, and Bucky could always go to him to talk about how tired they were of the world and of existing.
They were nice breathers for each other, too. As much as Bucky loved Steve, sometimes he was too perfect, too shiny... and Bucky was always afraid of disappointing him. Loki understood that, he'd been there too. And Loki was never disappointed, just interested or not.
Now he was next to the man, who was pale and disheveled, looking at him with a confused and scared look, that may mean that this was the first time it was happening to him. Loki was coughing and wheezing, and his hand was on his chest.
“Can you breathe?” Loki coughed again, and wheezed even more loudly. Bucky took that as a no. “Was it the dust? We need to get you away from the dust.”
How many times had he been here before? It was the 1930s, and Steve had been around some smoke and was it finding it harder and harder to breathe. First step, take him away from the trigger, whatever had caused the attack. With Steve it normally took a while, but Loki... magic. He took Bucky's hand and suddenly they were out of the building.
Bad thing was, Loki could hardly move any air anymore, and his pale eyes, who had been so frantic only seconds ago, were terribly close to closing for good. Which would be bad, bad indeed, 'cos he needed Loki awake to fix whatever was wrong inside of him. Surely he would be okay, he had been through worse (so much worse, another reason why the had bonded was that they had been through so much shit, even some stuff that they couldn't tell Thor or Steve to avoid giving them nightmares) but still, Bucky wanted to have Loki as whole as possible as soon as possible. He'd suffered enough - they both had.
Bucky called some help on his comm and they said they were coming. But they were quite far, so it would take some time.
“Eyes on me, Loki.”
There wasn't any wheezing anymore, which was a bad sign. When he was young, Bucky used to always carry around one of those dry powder inhalers in case Steve was caught without it, and now he wished for it, badly. Loki's lips were turning blue and Bucky didn't know if it was because he was a blue alien, or because he couldn't breathe.
“Let's get you sitting...Sit here, that's it, with me. And try to take long breaths, ok? The longer the better. Help is coming, with all the meds you need in the world, but in the mean time try to be calm, take the longest breaths you can't. And if you can't, don't panic, all right? Help is coming, and I am here for whatever you need.”
Loki appreciated Barnes' soothing voice next to him, telling him it would be okay, instructing him not to worry. Loki knew that Barnes was not a man of many words, especially not after coming back from his own personal void. But he did talk to him, when many others didn't, and he listened. He was a good man, and Loki understood why Captain Rogers had kept him so close.
“What other thing... oh, yeah, caffeine can work as a quick relief, could you conjure up some coffee?”
As much as the technology from this time fascinated and marvelled Bucky, magic, like the one Loki and Wanda was even beyond that. The things technology did were great and surprised him, but in the end of the day he could more or less understand how and why they worked. But this... Other people were afraid of magic, Bucky just felt lucky to be able to winess it.
“You're amazing.” He said, as a cup of coffe appeared in his hands.
Amazing and blue, with some hints of red in his eyes. Even if he wasn't blue because of the lack of air, the fact that his not-an-alien disguise was falling apart was probably a bad sign, too. Bucky had learnt that Loki always wore it because of some deep trauma about his identity. Bucky wanted to help at some point. Having identity issues was just plain awful, he knew. Trying to hide from the monster you thought yourself.
He managed to get Loki to drink some of the coffee and then the wheezing was back. That was better, at least he was moving some air.
Loki's eyes were bright, and his hands were shaking. But he didn't cry, held himself high. A true prince.
“You're doing great, champ.”
Bucky said, and Loki appreciated it. Thor wouldn't have said anything, wouldn't have smiled. Thor could be stoic in the worst moments to be, as taught by their dear old dad and all those Asgardian army leaders. Barnes had been in the army too, but he'd also been a prisoner in his own mind, and a fugitive of the law. Had died twice, had lost his arm twice. Those kinds of horrors had a tendency to change you, Loki knew.
The help came in one of those medical helicopters and the medics decided that he was past inhalers and put him on an oxygen machine with a plastic mask called a nebulizer. Bucky eyed it curiously, as he did with most machines. Loki was just glad he could breathe again.
Thank you.
Loki said in Bucky's mind with his magic, and Bucky welcomed it. The first time he did it he'd nearly freaked out (odd voices in his head, not acceptable) but now he was quite used to it. Sometimes it was even nicer being able to have a conversation without having to speak. Just thinking about it.
“Don't worry about it, man.”
Loki closed his eyes and Bucky was back in memory lane.
“You know, Steve had this illness when he was a kid, and I had memorised a whole book to help him. It was called “Labouring to breathe” and had terrible descriptions about people having attacks and all the things that could go wrong. You remind of him, sometimes.”
Loki coughed loudly under his mask, and his eyebrows nearly flew into the sky.
I remind you of Captain America?
“Not Captain America! Steve, the kid I knew that forged papers to be able to show everyone that he too could and should help, always proving that he was as brave as the rest, small guy with a big brain, never being taken into account as he should.”
That did sound more familiar.
“My kind of guy.” Barnes said, with that very rare smile of his.
A moment of calm as they were being flown back, of understanding, companionship.
Loki smiled back.
Sometimes, one could find solace in people who were as damaged as oneself, where you least expected to find peace, serenity.
The world feared them for who they once were, but deep inside, Bucky and Loki knew how to be soft, caring.
Some time after, Loki magicked Bucky and an illusion that made his arm look human, normal, told him to think about regrowing his own arm, with magic. Bucky said he'd think about it, but appreciated the offer.
From that day on, Bucky started to once again carry an inhaler around.
Because that's what friends are for.