the tables have turned | steve/bucky

chapter seventeen

Bucky looked strange when he was hooked up to all those machines. They went into him and came out of him all funny. He looked like a robot.  Hey, but at least the color was coming back to his face. After the little incident with Stark, I was so sure I lost Bucky.

But he did the very thing that he's been doing all of his life: he toughed it out. I always envied Bucky for how he could endure whatever life threw at him. He could tackle anything and walk out just fine.

When we were kids I always thought his ability to tolerate the worst was because he had a healthy body and I didn't. But now I know that that's furthest from the truth as it gets...

Around the same time Bucky's condition was slowly getting better, Tony's condition was quickly getting worse. I'd catch him coming in and out of the lab, mumbling nonsense to himself as he went. He'd stay up for hours on end working on that project of his. Hell, I still didn't know what it was that he was building. Every time I'd ask about it, Tony would cackle and give me the same answer of, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you!"

Pepper Potts, Tony's lover, I presume, would come around and ask about him. The worry in her tired face saddened me. She reminded me of Bucky when we were growing up; always worrying and being sad over some kid who didn't deserve his love.

I had a feeling that Bucky might've told Tony about what really happened to his parents. It must've shattered Tony.

I lost both of my parents at a young age, too. Even seventy five years later, it still hurts. Tony lost both of his at the same time and then had the weight of the world dropped on his shoulders.

Now, the man that killed Tony's parents is getting treated in Tony's lab, with Tony's equipment, run by Tony's staff.

If I had to walk a mile in Tony's shoes, I'd be running to kill Bucky too.

But Bucky's body was already taking care of that. As Tony said in the beginning, Bucky's body was fighting off the serum that was keeping him alive. The war on the inside was starting to show on the outside.

Bucky's cheeks were sinking in and his eyes were purple. His skin was beginning to turn transparent, too, like thin sheets of paper. When I looked at him, I couldn't shake the image of myself all those years ago. Was this how he felt? This helplessness, this impending doom... it was a cloud that constantly hung over my head.  

I stopped sleeping after a while. I felt like if I closed my eyes, Bucky would die and I wouldn't be able to save him. I guess that sounds pretty dumb considering the fact that he's sick, but...

One night, I accidentally nodded off at Bucky's bedside. A split second later it was morning, and Bucky wasn't in his bed. I scrambled to my feet and dashed out of Stark's lab, screaming Bucky's name.

As it turned out, the nurses took Bucky for a bath. I found them sponging him down in a tub in the hospital wing. Since he was so weak, the nurses had to hold his head above water. When I saw that, I had to walk out of the building.

I needed a good cry, anyway.

The following day, Natasha came over with some surprising news. She had on her Captain America hoodie from the Smithsonian gift shop and a pair of gym shoes that were also lady wedges. I don't fully understand the logic behind modern-day fashion, but Nat looks nice in anything she wears.

She dropped a set of keys down on my lap with a sheepish grin.

"What are these to?" I asked.

"They're to your new house. Me and Fury pulled a few strings and managed to buy you a nice little cottage not an hour outside of the city. It's nice and roomy. And we're having a little medical room built in there as we speak, so you can bring James with you. It'll be better than being cooped up in Stark's lab all day."

She gave Bucky a glance, and then looked back at me. Her eyes were warm, sincere.

"Stark says you guys can be transported as soon as the medical equipment is shipped there."

"When will that be?" I asked.

"Mmm... tomorrow. most likely. Oh! And Fury wants to see you soon. He said something about a problem you have to deal with..."