The Viper || BUCKY BARNES [2]

08 ― Save Him

2014 ― Washington, D.C.

Steve Rogers brought Holland Stark to the hospital himself, not trusting anyone else with her care. Once she was stabilized, he stepped out of her room and immediately called Sam... and Tony. Tony didn't hesitate. The moment he heard about Holland's condition, he was on a jet to D.C.

In the two years since the Battle of New York, their relationship had quietly grown. Holland had shown up in Malibu after Tony gave a terrorist his home address, both furious and protective. But it wasn't just to scold him—she came to help. To sit with him through sleepless nights, to talk through the panic attacks he tried to hide, to anchor him when he spiraled. That's when they truly bonded—when Tony Stark began to see Holland as more than his Dad's sister. She was his family now, too.

Now, as the soft hum of hospital monitors played in the background, Sam had the Trouble Man album echoing gently through the room while they waited. Steve sat at Holland's bedside, his hand wrapped securely around hers, foot tapping restlessly. On the opposite side of the room, Sam was flipping through a magazine, calm but alert. And in the far corner, slumped in a chair with dark circles under his eyes and exhaustion carved into his features, Tony Stark was fast asleep.

Then Holland stirred.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, scanning her surroundings. The music was the first thing she heard, and then she registered the soft pressure of someone holding her hand. Her gaze moved slightly to the side—Steve. He was right beside her, not noticing yet that she was awake, lost in his thoughts.

She kept looking—Tony was slouched across the room, fast asleep in a chair he clearly hadn't meant to fall asleep in. And to her right, Sam sat, the magazine open in his lap.

"On your left," her voice rasped out, dry and strained. Steve's head whipped around, eyes wide as he looked down at her. Sam looked up, too, his face immediately breaking into a relieved smile.

"Holly... how do you feel?" Steve asked gently, giving her hand a squeeze. She groaned softly, her muscles aching. Her eye had darkened just like she knew it would, and her entire body felt like it had been put through a war, which it had.

"Like I got run over by a bus... twice," she muttered with a tired smirk, turning her head toward Steve. "Thank you for pulling me out of the water."

Steve shook his head, expression softening. "Holly, I didn't—"

"Bucky pulled me out?" she whispered, cutting him off. Her heart stuttered at the thought. It shouldn't have meant everything, but it did. That small act—the choice to save her—meant there was still something left of him. Something human. Something real. Steve nodded. "So he's still in there... I got through to him." Tears welled in her eyes. The pain, both physical and emotional, was still raw, but so was the hope.

"We need to find him; we have to—" She tried to sit up, but Steve gently stopped her.

"You need to recover first, and then we can." His voice was firm but kind. "You want me to wake Tony up?"

She turned her head again, eyes resting on her nephew—the man who had come without question, who looked more like Howard every day despite how much he fought it. But in this moment, asleep and vulnerable, he just looked like Tony.

"No... let him sleep. I'll probably be here for a while anyway. Thanks for being here, guys," she murmured. Sam nodded with a small smile, and Steve leaned in just a little closer, his voice steady.

"Holly, you're my family; there's nowhere else for me to be."

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