Chapter 3
The scans came back normal, and Tony and Bruce waited patiently for Steve to greet the news with relief and joy, he didn’t.
He sagged further into his chair and rubbed at his temples. Bruce excused himself, but Tony stayed picking at his chin as he watched Steve intently.
“Ya know, most people would be thrilled with a brain like yours...”
Steve stared at the coloured brain warping on the screen, “Yeah well, leaves me more unanswered questions.”
Tony nodded, moving closer and settling himself beside his troubled friend, “So? What’s eating you Cap?”
Steve leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his thighs as he spoke, “I’ve been feeling...” he paused, not quiet knowing how to describe the problem, “I forget stuff-
Tony stopped plucking his beard and wagged his finger in the air, “so does everyone; forgot Pepper’s birthday and she wasn’t happy. A pissed omega is not a beautiful thing.”
Steve disagreed when that omega was Bucky, even with his face lined with angry lines and his mouth hissing he was hot. He cursed himself for thinking of the omega again; it had become a habit, one that usually ended in frustrated swelling in his pants and a odd throbbing in his bonding gland.
“It’s not just that,” Steve started, “The bits I forget are longer...and I’ve been feeling very...territorial over an omega, acting...not like myself.”
Tony’s eyebrows climbed up on his head, his lips popped open in amazement.
“Really? You? You’re getting all Alpha over someone?”
Steve shook his head at the mocking, rising to his feet before Tony stopped him by grabbing his arm.
“I’m sorry, wasn’t expecting you to say that, do I know the lucky omega? Did you meet her the other night?”
“Him,” Steve correcting, he ignored Tony’s surprised expression and carried on, “I met him that night, but something weird happened, I don’t remember what exactly...and the same when I saw him again. I-I lost myself...can’t remember what happened...”
Tony clapped his hand to Steve’s back, “You never been into an omega before?”
“No-
“And the forgetfulness only happens around him?”
“Yeah-
Tony hummed to himself with a nod, “It’s quite overwhelming, Alpha instincts going all over the place, a sense of being out of your depth with that sweet omega smell, messes with your head.”
Steve nodded along. Bucky was certainly messing with his head; he had withdrawal from not seeing him for a few days, not sucking up that delightful scent or taking in every detail of his face even when he was snarling in fury.
“You had the dreams yet?”
Steve whined, banging his fist to his forehead, “Yes, he’s all I can dream about-
“Drives you crazy doesn’t it?”
Steve bobbed his head with a laugh. Bucky was constantly running through his mind when he slept, sometimes quite literally. Steve was stalking him, chasing him down and begging for his submission. In his fantasies Bucky didn’t disappoint, in fact he goaded Steve into taking him-
“Hey!” Tony was clicking his fingers in front of Steve, “stop going there, you go all growly, don’t want you to mistake me for a rival in your dirty fantasy and attack me.”
Steve went to chuckle but a vicious thought flew in his head so fast he had to anchor himself to the chair with his hands.
‘There is only one Alpha we need to get rid of.’
He shook the thought away, body tingling with ice and head pounding. Brock; Brock was the challenging Alpha, except there was no challenge, Bucky belonged to him.
“Gotta say Steve, it’s a relief to know you get all Alpha like the rest of us, your brain looks perfect but me and Bruce did wonder if there was something up....down south.”
Steve frowned, “Why would you think that?”
“All the omegas throwing themselves at you after missions and you’re never interested.”
Not one of them had a scent like Bucky’s, not one had his sparkling eyes, and his pink lips-
“So, you gonna tell me his name?”
Steve opened his mouth to say it, wanted so badly to divulge his secret crush to someone, but he couldn’t. On paper, Bucky belonged to Brock; Bucky had an Alpha, the dreams, the possessiveness were all in vain.
He shook his head and Tony fluttered his lids dramatically, “Not even gonna tell me? Your closest friend?”
“Nope....You’re the last one I’d tell.”
Tony clapped his hands together with a bark of laughter.
Steve needed a distraction, and fortunately a mission with SHIELD cropped up. They needed to clear a block of apartments, a memory stick full of important data had been stolen and SHIELD needed it back.
Civilians had been evacuated, leaving hostiles hidden inside. Brock was by his side, keeping the pace while the rest lagged behind. The rougher looking Alpha was brutal, picking off the strays that Steve had missed with ease.
They worked efficiently together, and any thought of Bucky was swamped under the importance of their task. Brock flicked his head up to the next level and Steve agreed, going first with Brock covering.
The headache prickled at Steve’s temple, and he leaned heavily on a wall only for Brock to run over and tap him on the back.
“You okay Cap?”
He shot the other Alpha a weak smile, straightening up before kicking in the door to apartment twenty-two.
‘I’ll take this room.’ He gestured to Brock, and the Alpha nodded moving on to the next.
The headache intensified and Steve gasped, sliding down the wall with his head between his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain away.
He counted to ten, slowed his breathing and repeated, but it didn’t help. Sensation became distorted and fuzzy, and even when he opened his eyes all he was confronted with was darkness. He lost himself in the pit of empty space, all his senses zoned out completely......
..............He struggled to open his eyes, as if an overpowering sleepiness insisted he stay under, the intense headache warped, becoming muffled as his consciousness came back to him. He was stood on the pavement, staring up at the towering block of apartments-
“Steve!”
He turned at Nat’s sharp shout, she patted him down, ruffled his hair forward as if checking for a wound.
He shuffled away from her, “What happened?”
“I think you’re concussed-
“I’m fine, what happened?”
She continued to study him intensely before flicking her hand at the building, “We got what we came for, floor 22 held the goods.”
Steve vaguely remembered entering with Brock on his heels. He had checked one room, Brock the other, then there was a blank space in his mind, a huge hole in his memory.
“Where’s Brock?”
Nat scraped her heel on the pavement, “hospital, bastard got him, they’re seeing to him now-
“What?! What happened?”
Her frown was fierce, splitting her face with harsh lines, “He got shot...in the back. One of the rooms you and him were checking, you missed a guy, he shot Brock, you bashed the hell out of him and the rest of the team got there...you ran him down all twenty-two flights of stairs.”
“Brock got shot...”
Nat nodded glumly, “He didn’t look too good, but SHIELD has the best doctors.”
Steve glared at his hands, they tightened and flexed as he watched. Brock was hurt, they had missed someone....but that was impossible, they double checked every room, Steve would’ve heard had a hostile crept up on them...he was behind Brock after all.
He gasped with another thought, glaring down at his hands again. They no longer twitched-
“Steve?”
“My fault.” He uttered.
Nat shook her head, before punching him in the shoulder, “Not your fault, some asshole was hiding.
“No-I...-
He was stopped from saying more by a loud beep and he jolted in alarm.
Nat steadied him, rubbing at his arm. “Get in the car Steve, go see if Brock’s alright.”
“Yeah-right...Okay.”
He climbed in the car in a daze, mind reeling with the thought he might have hurt Brock. He was Captain America, there was no way he had shot a comrade in the back....had he?
The door was yanked open by Nat, the patriotic shield she held towards him, “Don’t forget this Captain America.”
It was splattered in blood, but still shiny enough to see his reflection, his ruffled, shocked reflection...
The first thing that hit him when he got to the hospitals wasn’t the shock of Brock so pale, or the confusion at the tubes going to and from his body, it was the scent of mortified omega.
The scent clawed the inside of Steve’s head, rolled his stomach and agitated his muscles. He was alert, ready to react, to sooth, defend, fight, whatever the stressed omega needed him to do.
But Bucky didn’t need him; he needed the pale Alpha in the bed.
Bucky stood by his side, smaller hand clinging on to Brock’s big one. The Alpha was unconscious, and the only sound in the room was the beep to his machine.
“Bucky...” Steve whispered, the omega glanced up, face morphing into one of rage.
“You can’t call me that.” He hissed quickly, mouth snapping shut when the nurse returned.
Steve allowed her more room, hovering in the doorway.
“Is he going to be alright?”
The nurse pressed her lips in a firm line before speaking, “he lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable now.”
Steve nodded with a tight smile, that at least sounded slightly positive.
He left with his eyes on Bucky, the omega didn’t turn to him, but stared unblinking at the Alpha in the bed.
Bucky stayed in the room with Brock, and Steve hovered outside too afraid to go back inside. Even with the door between them distressed omega seeped through and rolled his stomach.
He yanked at his hair, willing his brain to focus and regain the minutes he had lost. Nothing sparked, and he growled at himself, freaking everyone out in the corridor. Had he done it, could he have really shot Brock in the back?
Natasha gripped his shoulder hard. “Stop blaming yourself...”
“’s my fault-“
“Can happen to any of us.” She told him with a sympathetic smile.
It did nothing to ease his discomfort, Brock had been hurt; the memory lapse held the key to what happened but he couldn’t access the information, didn’t know if he truly wanted to know the extent of his desire for Brock’s omega.
Three days had passed and Brock hadn’t stirred; the doctors said he had made good progress, but to Steve it looked like very little. The machine still beeped with its endless rhythm, a tube was still shoved at the base of Brock’s nose and there was no flutter to his lids or twitch to his lips. He looked the same, and in many ways the hospital room looked worse. Bucky had taken up refugee in the small room, not talking, not eating and not sleeping. The sparkle in his irises had dimmed, trenches of grey underneath his eyes. His hair was unkempt, and he sat with drooping shoulders, bowing over in defeat. He was a ghost of the omega Steve had seen weeks ago, and it was all Steve’s fault.
The tragic image beyond the window was enough for Steve to gain his courage and push through. For three days he had observed from the other side of the glass, but he couldn’t stand it any longer.
The scents of devastation and worry shoved at him like a physical presence. Every Alpha instinct began singing in his veins to protect the omega, to sooth his fears and make him content again.
“You need to rest.” He told Bucky, fidgeting with the edge of the bed to distract his grabbing hands.
There was no reaction. Bucky continued to stare at the unmoving Alpha on the bed.
“Okay...if you’re not gonna rest...at least let me help. He’ll need stuff when he wakes...clothes and that.”
Bucky’s head shifted, he slowly lifted his gaze towards Steve. His brow twitched and Steve’s heart clenched so hard at the sight he couldn’t breathe.
“Please.” He wheezed, before thumping himself in the chest, “we can get some things for you too, you been wearing those clothes for days.”
The omega’s brow scrunched, he glanced down at himself considering what Steve said.
“Come on, will be good to get you out of this room, if only for a little bit.”
Bucky bobbed his head in agreement. The chair scraped noisily on the floor as he stood. He was reluctant as he darted longing looks back and dragged his feet as he went.
“Anything changes and they’ll let us know, okay?”
Bucky nodded, shooting one last look before pushing through the door.
Steve herded him down the corridor, arms at the ready in case the omega was to pass out. The omega’s walk was uncoordinated in his exhausted state, several times his shoulder barged the wall and he glared at it accusingly. His head flopped unsteadily on his shoulders and he held his palm up to the wall for balance.
“Car’s just over here.” Steve told him, praying the omega would sleep on the way to Brock’s house.
He didn’t, he stared straight ahead and no amount of small talk could get him to speak. Steve repeatedly assured him Brock would be alright, he was a tough Alpha, but Bucky only shook his head in response before continuing his death stare through the glass.
When they arrived, Steve unclipped his belt ready to help, but Bucky grabbed at his wrist keeping him in place.
“Stay here.” He mumbled.
Steve sunk back into his seat with a curt nod, not happy that his assistance was rejected but at least pleased Bucky was still speaking to him in the confines of the car.
Anxiety grew the longer Bucky was away from his sight; he tapped at the steering wheel, hummed to himself with his lips pressed firmly together till the tickle got too much, and still the omega didn’t reappear.
He sighed, the omega had asked him to stay put, and he at least wanted to honour that request but it was nearing torture waiting for him to return.
When the brunette did appear, Steve smiled at him, the expression dropped from his face when the smile wasn’t returned. Of course Bucky didn’t want to smile; it was stupid for him to expect one in return.
The omega climbed in the car, nose twitching thirstily and brow scrunching in confusion. An anxious Alpha scent had filled the space in his absence, and he wound the window down to be free of it.
They began the returning journey in silence. Steve had given up on the small talk. He felt more relaxed when he didn’t attempt it and Bucky didn’t stiffen in anticipation every time his mouth opened.
The sky turned black before his eyes, he frowned, darting concerned looks over to Bucky. That wasn’t normal; the sky didn’t turn black in an instant. The darkness reached towards him, not just the other side of the glass but within the car, covering Bucky, covering everything
He went to speak, to move, to do anything but he couldn’t. Sensation fizzled out to nothing; he could no longer smell the omega beside him or see the road in front.
The last sense to go was his hearing, the growl of the engine, the squeal of wheels followed by a softer omega voice, Bucky’s voice.
“Steve? Where are we going?”
That was the last thing that registered in his head before everything disconnected and he was plunged into the dead space of his mind.