We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Bucky Barnes x Reader

35 || Boiling Point

The room's relatively quiet, which has pretty much been the case ever since your latest fiasco of a mission. It isn't exactly a 'peaceful' silence, but you're willing to take what you can get while dealing with this annoying throbbing throughout your entire body and the stinging pain that's focused around your center.

"At least I can cross breaking a rib off the bucket list."

"Not a fun feeling, huh?"

"God no," You groan, leaning back only to instantly regret doing so as shown through a sharp flinch. Sam's smile shows a mix of sympathy and amusement before he passes you a couple of pain pills as well as a glass of water. You're quick to set down your ice pack in exchange for these items, gratefully swallowing the pills in hopes that they'll offer some relief...Unfortunately, there's no immediate effect.

You're left with no other choice than to miserably do your best getting comfy against the stiff pillows of Zemo's incredibly uncomfortable couch, your only other option for a distraction being to simply let your thoughts roam to topics unrelated to your searing injuries. There's lots to review regarding the last hour anyway.

Talking to Karli was a total bust thanks to Captain Cosplay who couldn't even help prevent her escape afterwards. By now, she's undoubtedly gone to regroup with her terrorist buddies, bringing along even more reason for them to hate Avengers and even less reason to spare any of you an ear again.

To top off such a failure of a mission, while that section of your plans was going to shit, Zemo apparently took it upon himself to destroy the super soldier serum Karli had been carrying on her person. You suppose that might as well be a good thing considering no more stray vials means no more unwarranted superhumans running amok, however it doesn't quite sit right with you knowing how easily your rent-a-felon had slipped away from watch. He could've made a run for it, and or caused greater harm to the mission as a whole by taking matters further into his own hands which wouldn't have been too out of character given his track record with super soldiers so far.

That's precisely why you told Bucky to keep an eye on him! You were already going after John, and someone needed to stay with Zemo, so it should've been him. If he had just listened, you guys would've been able to maintain control of at least that variable - one less idiot to check over your shoulder for. Instead, he insisted on following you then concerned himself with your wellbeing, worried for your sake as if you're a glass doll who took a tumble off a shelf.

...Granted, in the eyes of a superhuman, that's probably a fitting comparison for what actually happened. Karli succeeded in really knocking the air from your lungs (and most of the sense right out of your head). By the time you finally came to again, the world was spinning in muddled colors orchestrated by constant ringing in your ears, yet you were still somehow aware enough to recall Bucky scooping you up into his arms.

Between those long blinks where your eyes struggled to remain open, you could see the stunned fear woven into his expression. It's not quite like anything you've seen on him before - similar, but not exactly a match even to his troubled stare during the war or his distressed cries in Romania.

You wish you could say he's relaxed since reaching the safehouse, however his head continues to hang low. Muscles tense and breath jagged, he stands at the bar counter with a glass of vodka in hand - an empty one, since he had just chugged his third round as if a mere shot of pure H2O...He's still having a hard time snapping out of whatever trance your injury inflicted upon him, failing to steady his nerves no matter how much alcohol he tries to drown himself in; you aren't the only one to notice.

"Why not try some peppermint tea? It's an excellent choice for calming anxi -"

"- Fuck off..." Bucky growls in swift response to Zemo's suggestion, his metal grip constricting against the glass resulting in a sharp 'squeak'. Any tighter and it'll shatter into starry shards.