|| SamBucky (WinterFalcon Oneshots) ||

Fuzzy

Everything was fuzzy.

Disoriented.

Colours and noises merged into one, momentarily blinding me. I shut my eyes.

A rather loud ring chimed in my ears and I tense when I feel a hand jerk me up. I could faintly taste the rusty flavour of blood. I choke when I get slammed back down, worsening the headache. I cry out when a foot steps on my throat, slowly, teasingly, cutting off my airways. I can feel my heart beat fast in my chest, the throbbing pulse of my headache syncing with the rthym.

Uncurling my wings, I wack the enemy with it, dangerously close to fainting.

Sheer exhaustion has settled, turning me into a boneless mess (So much for being Captain America)I close my eyes, greedily swallowing for air, wheezing out a cough and stagger to my feet, looked down at the man and snarled before landing a swift kick to his head.

"Sam?" A familiar voice calls, though I can't place it, the voice was everywhere.

My world tipped threateningly, black spots dancing before my eyes roll into the back of my head and collapse. Barely noticing the cry of my name before my world plunges into darkness.

I awake to the smell of burning wood, the headache still hammering against my skull.

A figure looms beside me.

The next few minutes are blur but I must do something because soon I'm on the floor, gasping for breath once again.

"Sam, hey." Their voice was soft, no ounce of malice behind them but that doesn't mean they don't want something to do with me.

If I was naive, I probably would have relaxed but I have to get back to Bucky and make sure he's okay. Is he okay? I don't remember much, only the feeling of my chest constricting.

A hand settles itself on my shoulder.

I spin around, grasping onto the hand and flip the offender on their back, using my elbows to pin them down by the throat.

"Samuel! It's me! Bucky!" The man bites out and in a swift movement, my head collides with the dirt. My chest heaves up and down, fear crippling me to the bone.

Bucky?

No, I left him back at the warehouse-

Right?

That metal arm isn't common, it's Vibranium with gold streaks. The same arm Barnes had. Could it be him?

"Sam, it's me. Wherever you are, you aren't there. You're with me. Bucky Barnes..." The man seems pained when he answers next.

"Cyborg. You know, the guy with a staring problem?"

It's Bucky.  My mind soothes, the entirety of my body collapsing against my partner's, exhaustion crippling me.

Despite how tired I am, I can't help but pull back and check him for injuries. He was fine, only slight scratches and bruises, which is to be expected. You don't miraculously survived a fight with out at least one beautiful bruise blooming across your cheek.

My throat still felt raw, scratchy. It felt like a desert, except everytime I tried to speak, it was like knives were just, just scraping down my throat, the muscles screaming in protest.

"Sam, you still with me?"

With him? Yes, can he not see that? I am right there, in front of him.

...

"Sam, squeeze my hands, can you do that?" 

Such a mundane question yet my tired brain couldn't filter it. I was purely running on fuse now, and it was running out.

I try though, because Bucky needs to stop worrying over me. I'm a grown man. God, I'm supposed to be the next god damn Captain America! Steve obviously saw something in me because he wouldn't have given the shield and if Bucky hadn't had all this trauma weighing down on him like an anvil, that is slowly crushing him from its weight, I think Steve would have given him the shield.

I don't even know I'm dosing off until Bucky gently rests my head on his shoulder. Now, in any other circumstance, I would've teased him for it, tell him that for a cyborg, he is very emotional or something along the lines about how he acted like this touch bloke when really he's all soft and gooey on the inside it could make your teeth rot.

Later though. I'm most definitely going to tease him for it.

He won't even see it coming.

"This is gay." I mumble, leaning into the warmth Bucky's body provides.

His scent engulfs me like a massive hug, holding me together and calming me downz the rush of the fight finally waning out. Which amazes me because not only a moment ago, my wind pipes were getting crushed under some self-proclaimed inventor, who boasts about beating Tony Stark.

Let's be real, anything or anyone can beat Tony Stark.

He also updated RedWing, gave him some codes that could defend enemy hackers from tapping into the data and leaving their tracks in the cold.

"Shut up, Sam, and rest. You need it."

I frown.

"What about you? You did after all break rule number 2?"

The fire crackles, the orange flames dancing in a mesmerising dance, pulling me into a sleep before Buck can answer.